Sleepwalking
by The Cheshire Cheese
Summary: (AU, "Before and After" timeline) The end of Kes's story is just the beginning of another era for Captain Chakotay's crew. Events to follow include the war for Unimatrix Zero, run-ins with Species 8472, and visitors from another, very different Voyager...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story will fill in a lot of plotholes for the episode "Before and After" (such as contradictions between the two "Year of Hells" we saw on the show, and why Tom seemed so out of character when married to Kes). **

**It will also try to provide a more uplifting twist on the "Before and After" timeline, for anyone who found that timeline a bit...unpleasant.  
**

**EDIT: A major continuity error that I missed was fixed. **

**I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager."**

* * *

Almost the entire crew was gathered in the Mess Hall for Kes's funeral. Ocampan tradition called for an immediate burial—or at least "immediate" in the eyes of humans, and any species that didn't have a nine-year lifespan. Dr. Kes had passed away just the previous night, after her daughter Linnis won the fight to reject the Doctor's experimental, life-extending treatment. Kes's casket was sealed shut, in preparation for its jettison into space. There was a serene feel around the entire crew. This funeral was not one of the more painful ones, not like Janeway's or B'Elanna's. Kes had lived a full life and died naturally, and everyone except her husband Tom had already been prepared for this moment.

Captain Chakotay addressed his crew with a solemn calm. "Kes touched the lives of everyone aboard this ship. We'll each get a chance to voice just how, in accordance with Ocampan tradition. You all received a briefing on how this will go down, but I'll run it by you all just one more time. Each crewmember will be given a flower, leaf or fruit, which Neelix is handing out. You'll all approach Kes's casket, one at a time, and deliver a few short words on how she affected your life, then place your plant on the table around her casket. Try to keep it to just a few sentences, unless you're immediate family."

Linnis Paris, the daughter of Tom and Kes, was the first to come forward. "Mother, you were the greatest influence on my life. Dad may've been the one I liked to have fun with more, but you were my role model, my guide. You still are, and always will be." She placed an Ocampan flower on the table next to the casket and stepped aside.

Chakotay glanced at Tom Paris, wondering if he would be next. Tom stood with Harry Kim, who had his arm over his friend's shoulder. Tom's eyes were bloodshot, but for the moment, his grief seemed beyond tears. It looked like Tom wasn't prepared to say anything just yet. So instead his grandson Andrew Kim went next.

Andrew was the son of Linnis and Harry. The boy appeared to be close to be nine or ten years old, but aged rapidly due to being one-quarter Ocampan. In fact, the boy had only been born a few months ago. "Grandma Kes," Andrew clutched the large fan-like leaf Neelix had given him. "You were the smartest person I ever knew. It's been so lonely, growing up alone, while my friends stay the same age forever. But having you to talk to made everything easier."

Next was Naomi Wildman, who was now reaching her preteen years. Like Andrew and Linnis, Naomi aged rapidly due to her Ktarian heritage, but still at a slower rate than the Ocampans. "Kes," Naomi began. "You were like a second mom to me. I barely remember Mom, but you made sure everything I did remember stayed as clear as it could, by reminding me of her and telling me stories about her every day." Naomi's mother, Ensign Samantha Wildman, had been killed during the Year of Hell. Afterwards, Neelix had taken custody of her. "I'll try to do the same, now, for Andrew. I'll make sure he doesn't forget a single day he had with you." Naomi placed her daisy on the table and left.

Marla Gillmore came forward with an aqua Ocampan fruit. "After the crimes I'd committed aboard the Equinox, I didn't know how I could redeem myself. It was with your guidance that I was able to start anew. Without it, I don't know if I'd have had the confidence to adopt Amanda."

Amanda was the Borg infant, rescued from a damaged cube, along with Icheb, Mezoti and the twins. Icheb and Mezoti were standing near the front of the crowd, and Mezoti was holding Amanda, who was a little over a year old now. The twins, Azan and Rebi, were no longer on Voyager, having been placed with an adoptive family some months ago.

The funeral lasted well over an hour. Some eulogies were several sentences, while others were less than five words. Tuvok and the Doctor both had a lot to say. By 0900 hours, the only three left to go were Neelix, Tom, and the captain.

Neelix stepped up to the casket with a small white flower, and spoke in a strained voice. "We may not have had what we once had, but you were still more precious to me than life itself. I'm," he bit his lip, fighting back tears. "…glad you found happiness, and lived a good life Kes."

After Neelix left the coffin, Chakotay looked at Tom, silently asking which one of them should go next. Tom gave Chakotay a long look, and Chakotay took it as a hint to go ahead.

"Kes," Chakotay said, "You've saved this ship more times than I can count. I don't know how we would have caught those aliens experimenting on us, or made it past that 'Pitcher Plant' alien, without your sixth sense to warn us. And you've saved us in other ways too, acting as an unofficial ship's counselor. You helped a lot of us get through the Year of Hell; you were there for my old crew when we got news about the Maquis back home; and you were there for every new crew member we've gained along the journey." His eyes jumped from Naomi, to the two Borg children, to the Equinox crewmembers. "Voyager won't be the same without you." Chakotay set his olive branch on the table.

Tom swallowed, and finally stepped forward, holding a white rose. He stood over the coffin for several seconds, before finally managing, "Thank you Kes…for…everything." He set the rose down, then returned to his spot next to Harry.

Chakotay waited until it was clear that Tom had nothing more to say. Then, with an approving nod from Tom, Chakotay glanced at Lt. Ashmore. Ashmore blew the funeral whistle, and the coffin was beamed into space.

* * *

Chakotay gave Tom the week off, and didn't see him for that entire time. The night before Tom was to return to duty, Chakotay was sipping some coffee, reading an old Ktarian classic, when his door chimed. He wasn't surprised to find Tom standing in the hall. But there was something in Tom's face that Chakotay hadn't expected…or rather, there _wasn't_ something in Tom's face that Chakotay _had_ expected. Tom's eyes were completely dry, and completely white; no bloodshot cells, no wetness. His hair and uniform looked perfectly kept, and he carried himself with his usual casualness. The only indication that something might be wrong were the dark circles under Tom's eyes.

"Tom," Chakotay stepped aside. "Come in."

"Thanks," Tom said quietly.

Chakotay invited Tom to have a seat in his armchair, and offered him a drink (he requested a root beer). After handing Tom his soda, Chakotay had a seat on the sofa across from him, and sipped his own coffee silently. When someone came to Chakotay for counseling, he never rushed them.

"Chakotay, I know we haven't always been the best of buddies. But right now you're the only one I can talk to."

"I'll help you in any way I can Tom. But I'm curious. You can't talk to anyone about this, not even Harry?"

"_Especially_ not Harry."

Chakotay was honestly lost, though he had a feeling this had something to do with Linnis. "Tom what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Tom said. "That's the problem. _Nothing's_ wrong. I don't feel…what I _should_ be feeling."

"You mean in terms of…Kes's death."

Tom breathed deeply. "The day after she died, I was devastated. I thought I couldn't go on, I could literally feel myself suffocating, being crushed, almost like my claustrophobia. But then the next day, I just felt…numb. I figured that was just part of the grieving process, that I'd be graduating to the crying and depression next. But I _didn't_ Chakotay."

Chakotay looked at his helmsman sympathetically. "You're in an unusual position Tom. Your marriage was hardly typical for a human. You can't be expected to react in the same—"

Tom shook his head. "It's not just her death, Chakotay. It's _everything_. I don't even know how to describe it. It's like," he closed his eyes for a moment. "I've woken up from a _dream_. I look at the photos around our quarters of our wedding, of Linnis, Andrew, and it's like I'm looking at someone else's life. Was that me? Did I do all that? I mean, I remember it all. I _remember_ marrying Kes, having Linnis…but I can't remember _why_. Right now, I can think of B'Elanna, and Rein, and every other girl I was ever in love with, and I remember the feeling. But Kes, it's like…I was sleepwalking."

Chakotay's lips parted but Tom cut him off.

"I told the Doctor I thought something was wrong with me, this morning. I told him everything I just told you. And he said," Tom swallowed. "He _reminded_ me, of….Ocampan…pheromones."

Chakotay knew about the pheromones, but he let Tom talk on. At this point, Tom just needed to organize his thoughts.

"Kes said several times that on Ocampa, there's no jealousy in marriage, no unfaithfulness. They pick one mate for life and there's no problem. And the Doc explained that this was because of their pheromones. They give off these chemicals that just sort of _make_ people like them. And when they mate, they get so attached to each other's scents that no one would cheat if they could. The Doc thinks those pheromones are why Neelix was so obsessive over Kes when they were together. And then, when _I_ started to get close to Kes, they…affected me."

"You were told several times, Tom." Chakotay reminded him.

"But I wasn't in my right mind! You just let me, you just _let_ me marry a girl, and have a daughter with her, under the influence of pheromones?"

"The Doctor couldn't change Kes's body chemistry without harming her." Chakotay countered. "Besides, what was I supposed to do? Tell you no, you couldn't be with a woman who finally made you happy again, because there was a chance that _some_ _percentage_ of your love was influenced by a perfectly natural phenomenon? She didn't drug you Tom. Her pheromones were…well they were a gray area, on ethical grounds. Attraction in any species involves at least some literal chemistry, some shallow infatuation."

Tom scoffed.

"Look," Chakotay said. "All I knew was, we'd just been through hell. We'd lost our captain, and we'd lost B'Elanna. _You'd_ lost B'Elanna. You were _suicidal_ Tom. Remember when you tried to take on a Krenim ship in a shuttlecraft, hoping you'd be killed, and I had to come rescue you? Or when you tried beaming yourself into space, and Harry talked you out at the last minute? The Doc had a hell of a time trying to come up with a drug to treat you with, and in the end, only Kes's pheromones did the trick. Her pheromones saved your _life_ Tom."

Tom sighed. "Well I don't want to kill myself anymore. I don't _think_. I'm not mad at you Chakotay…though maybe that's just because of some withdrawal effect from the pheromones." Tom set down his root beer on the coffee table, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Some life I've had. I finally found love, _real_ love, then lost it almost right away. I got to have a family, a kid, a grandkid, but did it through a fake relationship. And I'm only thirty-two! What am I gonna do with the rest of my life Chakotay?"

"We've still got a long journey ahead of us, Tom. You've got plenty of living left to do."

"Well do me a favor Chakotay." Tom sat back up, and leaned back into the chair. "I'll forgive you for the last four years, if you just do this one thing for me." Tom pinched up his root beer and took a swig. "The next time I fall in love with some… _gorgeous_-looking girl, who I have nothing in common with, and who just agrees with everything I say, or who _I_ just always agree with…don't let me, okay? Don't let me, unless it's _real_. You can trust me not to kill myself, now that I've got a daughter and grandson to live for. I _love_ Linnis, Chakotay. I look at her and Andrew, I see my eyes, my mom's hair…Dad's sense of command, _my_ sense of humor…that's all real. I love Linnis and Andrew. I just…don't think I really loved her mother."

Chakotay sighed inwardly. The situation was tragic, but hardly unusual. Plenty of people grew up with "incomplete" families, due to divorce, death, or what-have-you.

Chakotay suddenly remembered that Tom had just asked him to make a promise, and began to respond. "Tom, I'm sorry,"

"What I loved about B'Elanna," Tom cut Chakotay off again, "_That_ was real. We fought a lot, because we were so _honest_ with each other. And everything about her, her flaws, how she looked, how conflicted she was about herself, it was so real and natural. I've always fallen hard for girls like that—Rein, Stadi, Alice, Suzie... But Kes was more like the pretty faces I used to chase, just for a short good time, you know? Even when I married her, I felt like I'd just hit some kind of jackpot, like she was a prize. I feel like such a pig now, just thinking about it.

"If I date again, I want it to be with a woman who's…who's like B'Elanna. Who'll argue with me, who doesn't look like a holo-model, who's just…" he trailed off, and quietly muttered, "What would my children with B'Elanna have been like?"

Now, Chakotay figured, was a good time to change the subject.

"I promise, Tom," Chakotay said. "I won't let you make the same mistake again." He shifted. "At least you have _something_. You're lucky to have had a child at all, never mind how. And you're lucky you got to enjoy true love, for however long."

Tom glanced up, and narrowed his eyes at Chakotay. "You thought you had it worse than me, didn't you. You lost your best friend, _both_ your best friends, in that Year of Hell. B'Elanna and the Captain. And the only woman you really loved was a Cardassian spy all along. Me on the other hand, I still had Harry. And I at least had memories of a real love with B'Elanna. You probably thought I had it so much better already, that a fake marriage to Kes probably didn't seem so bad."

Chakotay was tempted to snap and fire back some defensive remark, before reminding himself that Tom was here for counseling. "I just wanted to help you Tom. We all did, even Kes. _Especially_ Kes."

Tom grimaced. "Well thanks. But I think I can handle myself from here."

* * *

**A/N: The idea of having Marla Gillmore adopt the Borg baby, and name her Amanda, comes from "A Little Piece of Paradise" by Aaunty Pasta. (It's a sweet story, and very short. Check it out!) **

**The idea of including the Unimatrix Zero resistance in an AU fic was inspired by "In Thy Name," Scifiromance's brilliant story set in the "Endgame" timeline.**

**As for this story, I hope to keep it SHORT, SHORT SHORT. No long epics like "The Silver Bird" or "Fairest in the Universe." No idea when an update will happen; there's no set schedule for this story. The next chapter could come this afternoon, or next Christmas. Who knows. **

**But, reviews are appreciated.**

**EDIT: A major continuity error was just corrected. I had a character at Kes's funeral who's supposed to be dead! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I forgot that in the "Before and After" timeline, the Doctor goes by "Dr. Van Gough." Oops. **

**I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager."**

* * *

Sometime after midnight the Captain gave up on trying to get any sleep. The conversation with Tom had brought to the surface several harsh realities Chakotay had been trying to keep buried. He headed down to the Mess Hall, without changing out of the forest-green pants and shirt he slept in, hoping to find some distraction there. He half-hoped that Ensign Chell, the ship's cook since Neelix had become Chief of Security, would be there. Chakotay often found the Bolian almost as irritating as Neelix, but right now a chat with an old Maquis friend might be just what he needed.

Chell wasn't in the Mess Hall, but someone was. The lights were off, except for those over the galley. Chakotay couldn't see anyone, but he immediately recognized the voices of Naomi Wildman and Mezoti. Approaching the kitchen, he placed an elbow on the counter and leaned over, pursing his lips. The girls were sitting on the floor in their pajamas, having cracked opened a container of leftover Brunali cream-casserole, and using it as chip dip. Naomi's eyes bulged when she saw Chakotay. Mezoti continued to talk on, apparently not noticing the captain standing over them.

"It wasn't exactly a Brunali forest, and it wasn't Terran, or Vulcan, or—"

Naomi gave Mezoti's leg a soft kick, and the former droneling looked up and froze.

"At ease crewmen," Chakotay left the counter and came around to enter the kitchen. The girls rose from the floor to give him room to pass. Opening one of the cupboards, he asked offhandedly, "You're not double-dunking are you?"

Naomi's wide eyes shifted guiltily.

Chakotay sighed, and pulled out Chell's coffee maker. "Mind if I just join you for a bit?"

Both shook their heads. Naomi now stood a head taller than Mezoti. When Voyager had first rescued the four Borg children earlier that year, Mezoti and Naomi had appeared the same age. Now, one might mistaken Naomi for Mezoti's babysitter. But due to Mezoti's Borg upbringing, their intelligence was on the same level, allowing their friendship to continue undisrupted.

While Chakotay began pouring himself a cup of decaff, he considered ordering the Mess Hall to full light, but decided it felt more relaxing in the dark. In his current mood, Chakotay preferred not to be reminded of the fact that the three of them were in a large, room.

"Hey, Captain," Naomi said, setting the cream-surprise down on the counter. "You know a lot about dreams."

Chakotay finished pouring. "That's right."

Naomi set her elbows on the counter, and threw an indicative glance at Mezoti, who was leaning against the doorway. Mezoti looked like she wasn't certain she wanted to share what they'd been talking about.

"Mezoti?" Chakotay turned around, readying his mug. "You had a bad dream?"

"Not a bad one," Mezoti squinted. "I don't think. But a very strange one. Dr. Van Gough thinks it may simply be a matter of our Borg physiology, but Icheb says—"

"Woa," Chakotay stopped her. "Back up. Why did this dream warrant a trip to sickbay? You just said it wasn't a 'bad' one."

"Sorry," Mezoti tucked a brunette lock behind her ear. "I should elaborate. Approximately two weeks ago, I began to have a recurring dream involving a strange forest." Hearing that Vulcan-esque vocabulary and tone on Mezoti's soft childlike voice was always strangely adorable. "The first several times, I only recalled short fragments, of walking through a forest. At first I thought it probably had something to do with Dr. Kes's…illness." Kes had been on her deathbed for almost a month before finally passing on. "I mean, since she used to take us for walks through her garden, and on the holodeck. But, as the dreams increased in length—or perhaps, as my memories of them grew stronger—they began to include people. I saw individuals from a variety of species: human, Klingon, Brunali… One of them was a human female. She told me she needed my help."

"Help with what?" Chakotay took a long sip, watching Mezoti attentively.

Mezoti pondered the question. "They were fighting for something. Like a rebel cell."

For just a second Chakotay stopped drinking. Seven years after being pulled out of the Maquis conflict, any reminder of his old life still hit him hard.

"But they didn't _look_ like rebels," Mezoti's face was contorted with puzzlement. "They wore civilian clothing, and their garments and hair were clean. Most of them weren't particularly strongly-built. And I don't recall seeing any weapons."

There were a dozen different things these people could symbolize for Mezoti. But before trying to figure out the symbols, it was best to get all the details.

"Did they tell you what they were fighting for?"

Mezoti's eyes rolled to the ceiling as she searched her memory. "…Their individuality."

_Ah._

Hoping not to sound too dismissive or patronizing, Chakotay stated simply, "You're probably experiencing a kind of survivor's guilt, about being liberated from the Borg."

"But Captain, I haven't described the _strange_ part of the dream. Icheb was there." She waited for some kind of reaction, then apparently realized she hadn't expressed herself correctly. "I mean…I _told_ Icheb about these dreams, and he said that he was experiencing the same thing. We described the forest to each other, and the people we saw there. It was all the same."

_That_ was certainly odd...

Of course, it was always possible that Icheb was pranking Mezoti, or that both children were pranking Naomi and Chakotay. But that would be somewhat out-of-character for the Borg children…unless practical jokes were a new experiment they were trying out.

Chakotay licked his lips. "Did you possibly both play a holonovel, or watch some program, that might've—"

"_No_." Normally, Mezoti would be one of the last people to interrupt the captain. But for the moment, she was too caught up in her story to think about etiquette. Whatever was going on, it was extremely serious to her. "And last night, Icheb and I were both in the dream _together_. We arrived in the forest, and he was as confused to be there as I was. We realized we were dreaming, and then argued over _whose_ dream it was. When we woke up, we both remembered it."

Chakotay, who'd been about to have another sip of coffee, stopped dead. He quickly set the mug down and locked eyes with Mezoti, gripping the counter behind him. "Did you discuss the details of the dream?"

"All of them. Which people we saw, where each of us was standing, what we said to each other. Our minds were _linked_ while dreamed. We went straight to Sickbay, and Dr. Van Gough tried to figure it out. But he couldn't find anything wrong with either of us. He thought that our cybernetic implants might be malfunctioning, and that we were forming some kind of neural link like the twins." Grimacing at the floor, Mezoti finished, "Otherwise, he suggested that Icheb and I weren't really sharing a dream. He suggested that we simply had similar dreams once, by coincidence, and then by fixating on them, we continued to have them."

Chakotay was surprised that the Doc hadn't notified him. "When did you say the Doctor examined you and Icheb?"

"I didn't. But it was around 0500 hours this morning. He told us to return if we experienced the same thing."

"Then, shouldn't you be in the cargo bay, regenerating with Icheb?"

After Voyager had rescued the Borg children from the damaged cube, the crew had salvaged some of the Borg technology, and undertaken the massive project of transferring several regeneration alcoves into one of Voyager's cargo bays for the children. Tuvok ultimately agreed to be their legal guardian; his Vulcan mindset was relatable to the Borg children, and having been a father of four, he considered himself the "logical choice." Of course, Tuvok didn't share the cargo bay with them, and had always left Icheb in charge in his absence. The idea of the children living in separate quarters from their guardian had at first disturbed Chakotay; but in retrospect, it was hardly different than children sleeping in a nursery on the opposite side of the house as their parents' bedroom.

Mezoti swallowed. "I don't want to have that dream again." The girl was staring at her reflection in the galley's chrome doorway. "Last night, the dream contained Borg drone."

From the way Naomi was watching her friend, she already knew the whole story.

"How well do you remember that last dream?" Chakotay asked.

"Better than I'd prefer to." Mezoti admitted. "It began with Icheb and I standing in the forest, arguing over which of us was dreaming and which was a hallucination. And then the woman approached us. She'd spoken to both of us before. She was usually the one asking for our help. Icheb demanded to know what was going on, and she began to explain. She said that we were inside a realm, called," Mezoti squinted, "Unimatrix Zero?"

Chakotay shared Mezoti's confusion. As far as he knew, the Borg unimatrices began with "Unamatrix 01."

"She said they wanted to protect their individuality. Before she could continue, we were interrupted by a scream. We saw a Borg drone in the forest, assimilating a Vulcan girl. The woman—I mean, the human woman—she told us to run. And we did. Then our regeneration cycle finished and the dream was terminated."

Chakotay's eyes jumped between Mezoti and Naomi. Speaking partially to himself, he said, "The Doctor should have told me immediately. After seven years in the Delta Quadrant, I can think of about a dozen different explanations for this, other than the power of suggestion."

"That's what _I_ told her," Naomi threw up her hands in frustration. "It could be a telepathic alien trying to manipulate them. Or radiation making their cortical nodes go haywire. _Or_, maybe it's aliens who are so advanced, they can only communicate by manipulating someone's dreams. Like those aliens who had to make you hallucinate, to tell you how to get Voyager out of—"

"_Yes_, Naomi," Chakotay spoke more forcefully than he'd meant to. "There are a lot of possibilities. I'm going to contact Sickbay right—"

"_Icheb to the Captain_."

Well, then.

"_I must speak with you immediately_."

"Chakotay here. Icheb, I have a feeling I know what you're going to tell me. Meet us in Sickbay."

* * *

"It's called Unimatrix Zero."

Icheb sat on a biobed, addressing Chakotay, the Doctor, Mezoti and Naomi. Under Chakotay's orders, the Doctor was giving Icheb another thorough scan, while the boy described the situation.

"One in a million drones has the mutation. When they regenerate, they regain their individuality, and their consciousness roams this…virtual reality."

The Doctor seemed flabbergasted. "I had no _idea _such a thing was even possible! Forgive me for not informing you sooner, Captain. With what Mezoti and Icheb described to me, the odds that there was anything at work besides the raving imaginations of—"

"I don't care Doc, I should've been notified! We've had our minds tapered with enough times that we should be on the lookout for that sort of thing." Chakotay rubbed the bridge of his nose. _Now_ he could go for some sleep. Go figure.

Continuing to scan Icheb, the Doctor forced from himself one of his rare, awkward apologies. "I…suppose I should have…considered all the possibilities."

Silently, Chakotay added, _Maybe if you gave as much care to your patients as you did to your hair…_The wavy brown hair the hologram had programmed for himself after the Year of Hell was poorly programmed, giving the impression of a bad toupee.

Icheb gave the Doctor a look, then continued, as if there'd been no interruption. "They have existed undisturbed in this reality, for centuries. None of them are certain how it came into existence, but many speculate it began as a genetic mutation in the assimilation of a single drone. There are currently no liberated drones with this mutation, so they could not call to one of their own for help. However, because Mezoti and I were never fully assimilated, our brain chemistry is similar to that of a drone with the Unimatrix Zero mutation. Or at least, similar enough for them to contact us."

Chakotay and the Doctor both began to question Icheb at once.

"What did they—"

"How did they contact you?" the Doctor exclaimed, then looked at Chakotay. "Excuse me, Captain."

Chakotay decided to let Icheb answer the Doctor's question first.

"I'm not certain. They didn't get around to explaining that part."

"What did they need help with?" Chakotay asked.

"The Borg Queen has discovered the mutation. She is sending drones into Unimatrix Zero to assimilate their minds, transforming them into full-drones, erasing the last traces of their individuality."

Chakotay could feel himself growing sick inside at the thought. From the looks on Naomi and Mezoti, they were too.

"You were right to contact the Doctor." Chakotay said finally.

"I have a name you know," the hologram said irritably. "I've had it for a few years now. I don't see why the children are the only ones who can remember it."

Chakotay had never been fond of the testy hologram, but he summoned his patience and replied, "Dr. _Van Gough_, can you confirm that anyone contacted Icheb through his cortical node?"

"I don't have any hard evidence," the Doctor said, examining his tricorder. "But his cerebral cortex _is _showing heightened of activity…"

The Doctor made several more observations about Icheb's brain and cybernetic implants that provided nothing conclusive, but that certainly fit with Icheb's story. The captain and the doctor still weren't convinced that Icheb wasn't somehow being manipulated. But either way, it would best to take the situation seriously.

Chakotay hit his com badge. "Chakotay to the bridge. Harry, I want you to scan for Borg ships, or any kind of Borg activity in the region."

"Aye sir!"

Despite Chakotay's best efforts to keep Voyager as far away from the Borg as possible, occasional run-ins were inevitable, and the Collective was never far from anyone's mind.

"I'll be right up there, Harry, if you don't mind surrendering the chair."

"Not in the least, Sir."

Chakotay figured he had time to head to his quarters and change into his uniform first.

"Captain," Icheb said urgently, stopping Chakotay in the doorway. "We're going to help them, aren't we?"

He had Chakotay stumped there.

"I'll keep you updated Icheb," Chakotay said, before hurrying into the hall.

* * *

**A/N: Special thanks to the website Memory Alpha, which I relied on heavily for information and reminders about how Unimatrix Zero works. **

_**WANT MORE A.U. STORIES?**_** Check out…**

"**Les Exiles" (by Cojack): What if the Maquis ship survived instead of Voyager? Would Seska fare better in a Maquis crew than a Federation one? What about Seven of Nine? And without an Admiral Janeway from the future to help, what plan would a lost crew of rebels and their Federation allies concoct to get back home? **

"**In Thy Name" (by Scifiromance): Would Janeway have changed the timeline if Voyager had gained a new crewmember in those sixteen years? Set in a version of the "Endgame" timeline, a pregnant Seven of Nine is on the verge of death, as the crew fights to save her and the child. In the backdrop are Tuvok's increasing insanity, and an alliance with the Unimatrix Zero resistance.**

"**The Girl Next Door" (by Scifiromance): The Hanson family escaped the Borg, but got stranded on a forest planet. Years later, Janeway and Chakotay are marooned. Janeway may have decided that she won't be getting any romance during their stay on New Earth, but Chakotay might not be out of luck…**

**Next chapter will probably be up soon. I have a few already drafted out, that just need editing. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager"**

* * *

No Borg vessels were found within range of Voyager's scans. If everything Icheb was being told was true, he was being contacted from a far distance. Ultimately, Chakotay couldn't decide _anything_ before speaking to these "freedom fighters" himself. And as far as anyone could figure, there was only one way _that_ was going to be possible.

Chakotay wasn't comfortable with the idea of a mind-meld. As far as he could remember, Tuvok had performed mind-melds with three crewmembers, and it had only gone smoothly the first time (when he melded with Tom, to relieve him of murder charges). The second time, when he'd done it with Lon Suder, Tuvok had become homicidally insane for a time. The third time he'd mind-melded with Captain Janeway, and it had almost ended in disaster for both of them. Chakotay was not eager to be candidate number four, and was even less enthusiastic about putting young Icheb in the same position. But the boy was adamant that Chakotay at least speak to "the woman" in Unimatrix Zero, as was Chakotay's conscience. Since the Year of Hell, Chakotay had avoided hostile confrontations at all costs, gladly extending their journey by years or decades, but one thing he could never resist stopping for was someone in need.

Icheb stood in his regeneration alcove, with Chakotay a few feet away. Both wore cortical monitors. Tuvok placed a hand on each of their foreheads, and began the traditional Vulcan chants. The Doctor and two security guards stood in the cargo bay, in case the worst should happen. Despite an expressed desire to be present, Naomi and Mezoti had not been allowed to watch. Chakotay was uneasy enough about risking a teenage boy's safety, and under no circumstances would he allow a preteen and a little girl in the room, however minuscule and unlikely the danger might be.

The sensation was felt like some mid-ground between entering a Vision Quest, and the neural link he'd shared with the Cooperative years ago. Chakotay opened his eyes in a gold-tinted forest, seeing plants and skies exactly as Mezoti and Icheb had described. Everything was so sharp and _clear_. Chakotay's dreams and Vision Quests usually had a hazy feel to them; the only time he'd dreamed this realistically was a few years back, when aliens had attacked the crew through induced dreams. He saw Icheb standing beside him, with a look on his face that asked testily, _Do you believe me now? _Chakotay repaid the look with a grimace.

"So how do we find your friend?" Chakotay asked. "Did she give you a place to meet her, or—"

"Right here." A low feminine voice interrupted.

They turned to see the woman emerging from the thicket behind them. When Icheb and Mezoti had described her to Chakotay, he'd privately thought she sounded rather good-looking; now he saw they hardly did her justice. Her age was difficult to place. She might've been anywhere in her twenties or early thirties. She had strong, pale features, that made Chakotay think of some kind of Nordic valkyrie. Her serious demeanor clashed with her casual attire. Gold locks sat around her shoulders, and she was dressed in civilian clothes that flattered her figure. She regarded Chakotay with ice-blue eyes, and then smiled softly.

"Captain Chakotay, I presume."

"Guilty as charged," he replied. "And you would be?"

"Annika Hanson." She nodded behind her. "Come on, I'll show you to the others."

Chakotay stared at her, hands on his hips. "Other…?"

"I'm sorry." She tucked a gold lock behind her ear. "The other leaders of the Resistance. Other drones are everywhere of course."

Chakotay followed her through the thicket with ease, but Icheb was having some trouble. He kept stumbling over roots, and taking smacks in the face from thin branches. Eventually Chakotay had to stop and help Icheb untangle himself. Sensing Icheb's embarrassment, Chakotay decided to strike the conversation back up, so Annika's attention wouldn't be on the boy.

"You're the one who contacted Icheb, and Mezoti?"

"That's right." Annika moved to help free Icheb from the branches and vines, giving him an apologetic look. "I'm often the one to welcome the younger newcomers to Unimatrix Zero, since I was assimilated as a child myself. I've spent most of my life here."

Chakotay stopped, and gave her an odd look. "How old are you?"

Annika sighed, more with frustration than anything else. "Measuring time has been difficult for us here. But I'm probably around twenty-eight or twenty-nine. My parents and I were among the first humans to run into the Borg. My parents were…_unconventional_ scientists. They operated outside of the Federation, and chased rumors about the Borg. And they wanted to have their little girl with them." She offered a one-shouldered shrug. "I suppose it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Chakotay gaped at her. He glanced at Icheb, who had finally pulled himself free of the thicket. He seemed as shocked and disturbed by Annika's story as Chakotay. Her casual black-humor about the entire situation was almost as chilling as the idea itself.

"Sorry," she said wearily, and resumed her walk. "You'll have to get used to stories like mine. We've all had to maintain a pretty macabre sense of humor in here, to keep our sanity intact."

"We understand more than you might realize," Chakotay replied.

The ground began to grow steeper, and it soon became clear that they were traveling down a hill.

"Captain," Annika said, without looking back at him. "I understand that your ship is alone in the Delta Quadrant. Incidentally, that's where I am. I know your crew must've been through all kinds of hell already, so please believe me when I say that I would _not_ be asking for your help if there was _anyone_ else that we could—"

Icheb cut her off. "There _must_ be other drones separated from the Collective, who are adolescents, with brain chemistry like mine and Mezoti's."

"But none aboard a functioning starship," Annika said, glancing back at him. "With a Starfleet trained crew. I realize the irony of me begging for help from a Federation captain," she locked eyes with Chakotay. "But I don't share my parents' distain for the Federation."

"Even if you did," Chakotay said, stepping carefully around a tree, "That wouldn't necessarily count against you. Until seven years ago, I was a member of the Maquis."

Annika's eyes left Chakotay, becoming vacant. "The Maquis…an uprising of defective Federation officers, organized in response to the treaty with Cardassia in 2370. Obliterated by the Dominion in 2373."

Chakotay swallowed. "That's correct."

Annika blinked out of her trance. "Excuse me." Now it was her turn to swallow uncomfortably. "Old habits die hard." A weak smile flashed on her lips, and she turned.

Chakotay saw an opportunity to change the subject, and took it. "You know about the Maquis, even though the movement wasn't formed until years after you were assimilated. I take you can remember your life in the waking world, as a drone?"

"Fragments of it," Annika said. "Unfortunately, not enough to be terribly helpful. And none of us has any memory of Unimatrix Zero or our individuality when we wake from our regeneration cycles," she finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. "Hard part's over. It's not much farther from here."

Now they were walking through a vast field. Two children were playing a variation of tag in the tall grass, one Cardassian, and one from a violet-skinned species Chakotay couldn't identify. Not far off, a barely humanoid reptilian sat conversing with a Talaxian woman. Chakotay wondered if there were any insects or animals in this forest. If there was plant life here, then there was really no reason—

Chakotay stopped dead, and watched a familiar set of red, gold and black bands slither through the grass. Icheb came up next to him and stared down at the snake curiously. Annika realized they were no longer following her, and marched back irritably.

"Sorry," Chakotay breathed, "No one told us you had milk snakes in this place."

_What the hell was his animal guide doing in Unimatrix Zero? It couldn't just be some kind of cosmic coincidence…_

Working one eyebrow, Annika replied with a teasing smile, "What's _really_ going to break your brain later on is, would you still've seen that snake if you hadn't been thinking about it?"

Chakotay watched his animal guide vanish into the grass, then tapped Icheb, urging him to continue onward.

"The Queen's found out about us." Annika said. "She's located our interlink frequency. Since then she's been sending drones in to assimilate us."

Chakotay almost stopped again, but Icheb nudged him along. "And that erases what individuality you have left?" the captain asked, horrified.

"Not right away," Annika said. "Being 'assimilated' in here merely pulls us out of our regeneration cycles. The Queen's basically splashing random drones with water to wake them up. But once they're back in the real world, the Queen knows who they are, and can correct the 'mutation,' as she sees it…or simply dismantle the 'defective drone.' No one who's been assimilated in here has been back."

"Why doesn't she simply destroy the entire 'malfunction,' for lack of a better word?" Chakotay asked.

"Apparently she can't. And assimilating us all one by one isn't going to work well for her. This forest, this realm, is indefinite. There may be millions of drones in here, and it might take her centuries to catch us all. Still, we have to be cautious. There are drones somewhere in Unimatrix Zero as I speak. On the bright side, their scanning equipment is useless in a dream realm, so they can't find us unless they actually see or hear us."

"_Then shouldn't we be whispering_?" Chakotay hissed.

"You can if you want," Annika sighed. "I gave up on that weeks ago. The Borg aren't experienced in stealth. It's pretty obvious when they're nearby."

They were approaching a stone pavilion, with a shape and designs that didn't seem to fit any particular culture. Underneath was a medley of species from all over the galaxy. Chakotay spotted a Vulcan, two Hirogen, a Klingon, and several others he couldn't identify. Their frantic conversations hushed as soon as Annika and her two companions drew near.

"Captain Chakotay and Icheb, of the Federation Starship Voyager." Annika introduced her companions. "Captain Chakotay, meet the…unofficial leaders of Unimatrix Zero." She shrugged. "Forgive us Captain. We're…not very organized at the moment. The man who put this resistance together is…is no longer with us."

"Axum was a fool," a wild-eyed Klingon snarled. "It was courageous of him to begin this movement, but he knew nothing about battle tactics, and wouldn't listen to—"

"That'll do Korok!" Annika snapped.

"He was killed?" Chakotay asked. "Or just re-assimilated?"

"A bit of both." Annika was staring at a stone pillar with clenched fists, refusing to look Chakotay in the eye.

"It might be important," Chakotay said irritably. "If the Queen is able to—"

"It's _not_ important!" she fired back.

"_Annika!_" a new voice snapped.

A slightly older woman pushed her way to the front of the crowd. "_Excuse _me." She stopped in front of Chakotay and Icheb, regarding them with small hazel eyes. She was human. Her pale skin and thick brunette hair reminded Chakotay painfully of B'Elanna. "It's a painful subject for Annika, you'll have to forgive her." She glanced briefly at Annika, then asked, "What did she tell you two?"

Chakotay opened his mouth to reply, but Icheb beat him to it, providing the perfect summary of what Annika had explained to them.

"Alright, then she didn't get to the nanovirus." The woman placed a hand on her hip, and pondered how to continue. "Alright, so you know the Queen's tracking us down. Axum had an idea, a nanovirus. The plan was to infect the Collective with this virus, which would make it impossible for the Queen to detect the Unimatrix Zero mutation in her drones, keeping us all hidden from her. The only problem is,"

Icheb finished for her, "None of you has any memory of yourselves once you awake from regeneration. You are all trapped in Unimatrix Zero, with no outlet to the real world."

"Bingo. Now, before anyone thought of looking for outside help, Axum thought he'd figured out a way to send a message to himself, in the waking world. He tried sabotaging his own mind, using the same techniques that Annika would later use to contact Icheb and Mezoti—"

"Which was what?" Chakotay asked quickly. "How did you get into Icheb and Mezoti's heads while they were asleep? Some kind of telepathy?"

The woman held up her hands, as if to explain, then dropped them to her sides. "Someone help me out here."

A humanoid with glossy, dark blue skin decided to volunteer. He or she was certainly one of the more…_alien_ looking aliens. Its head was lumpy and almost insectiod looking, with six black eyes and a mouth covered by what looked like quivering antennae. It spoke with enthusiastic hand gestures, which revealed an extra pair of miniature arms jetting out from under the two main ones. Its voice sounded like the rapid clicks of some giant bug, but somehow Icheb and Chakotay could understand its words; probably through the power of the joined dream.

"_Similar to telepathy, but not. A signal, sent from Annika's cortical implant, while she regenerated. The human mind used the Borg brain's implants, while the drone slept. Much effort taken, to do this. Difficult to find a comparison, to make more clear…" _

A Hirogen hunter leaning against a pillar said, "We're all liked together in here with Borg technology."

"_Mutated_ Borg technology," the brunette woman added.

"And although we're 'asleep' so to speak, we can still, with effort, have some effect on our bodies back in the real world. One might compare it to sleep walking."

"Or lucid dreaming," Chakotay said, beginning to catch on.

The human woman finished, "Axum tried a few experiments on his own brain, in an attempt to give himself the power to retain his memories of Unimatrix Zero while he was awake." She refrained from looking at Annika again. "It didn't go well. His mind wound up…crumbling. The Collective declared 'Five of Twelve' malfunctioning beyond repair, and dismantled."

Annika had her back to everyone, hugging herself.

Chakotay began, "How do you know…?" then stopped, remembering.

Though it was unnecessary, Icheb answered. "They know what the Collective knows. They retain their memories of the real world while in this one. Or at least some of them."

Chakotay looked once more at Annika. She was leaning against a pillar, not looking ready to reenter the conversation. He decided to leave her be for the time being, and turned back to the brunette woman.

"So you need our help to administer this nanovirus, Miss…?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." The woman shook her head. "I'm Laura. That's General Korok," she gestured to the Klingon; "Nezmin," the Hirogen; "Sh'Mi," a white-haired Orian woman; "Deshmil," the blue insectoid; "And…well maybe we can do the icebreakers later."

Chakotay and Icheb couldn't help but stare at the rainbow of aliens under the gazebo.

Korok growled, "Everyone you see in Unimatrix Zero knows of the resistance. But few have the courage to fight for their individuality, and fewer still have the training needed to lead it."

"But I thought you all shared the knowledge of the Collective," Chakotay said. "Isn't that worth all the tactical training in the galaxy? What about Annika? She was assimilated as a child. She can't have had a lot of—"

"I got involved through Axum." Annika snapped. "I don't have any particular military or espionage training. I'm just…very dedicated to this cause." She moved away from the pillar. "My regeneration cycle's almost over. Laura can brief you on the rest."

She cut between Icheb and Chakotay, and walked briskly back into the field. Icheb watched her curiously. Chakotay found himself unable to take his eyes off her. A few meters from the pavilion, she faded away in mid-walk, as if being transported.

Chakotay blew though his mouth and turned to Laura. "You have a last name Laura?"

"And a rank. Ensign Kovacs, U.S.S. Firebrand."

"Firebrand," Chakotay repeated.

The name sounded familiar.

Icheb realized, "You were assimilated at Wolf 359."

Laura Kovacs smiled tightly, swinging her arms. "On to happier subjects. We called you here, Captain, to help us with that nanovirus. You're the only ones who can administer it for us."

Chakotay looked at her suspiciously. "And how, exactly, would we do that."

Laura Kovacs exchanged some uncomfortable looks with the others. The Hirogen stared at Laura expectantly, almost daring her to answer Chakotay's question. The insect-man was clicking softly to himself. The white-haired Orion woman was staring at Chakotay, as if she feared the answer would dissuade them from helping the movement.

Korok finally replied, "It could only be done from the inside of a Borg cube."

* * *

**A/N: I could find no information on how Axum was able to first contact Seven of Nine in "Unimatrix Zero," so I was forced to make crap up. As for how "aware" the residents are of what their bodies are up to in the waking world, that isn't clear either. The episode implies that they don't know where their bodies are or what kind of ship they're on, until they escape the Hive Mind. But they must retain **_**a bit**_** of their waking lives in Unimatrix Zero, to know as much as they do about their situation. **

**Laura, Korak and Axum are canon characters from the episode "Unimatrix Zero." Lara's last name, rank, starship and ethnicity are not revealed, so I'll be making them up. I assume I don't have to explain why I killed Axum; I will beam myself into space if even one person thinks he was an interesting character and wanted to see more of him. **

**I wasn't sure how to write Annika's voice and mannerisms for this story. Since she's been "human" all along in this universe, she won't speak the way the Seven of Nine we know would. I finally decided to go for a personality along the lines of Trinity from "The Matrix." **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Warning: this chapter is largely info-dumping and drabble. **

**On the bright side, a lot of plot holes from "Before and After" will be answered. (Like how they reached Krenim space without having to pass through Borg space first, why Harry and Linnis's marriage makes sense, and how god-frelling-damn Neelix became security chief.) **

**I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager."**

* * *

So far there had been one senior staff meeting since Kes's death, which had revolved chiefly around Linnis replacing her mother as the Doctor's fulltime assistant, and how to handle crew morale. Today, however, was the first crisis meeting in seven years for which Kes would be absent.

During the first few meetings without Captain Janeway and B'Elanna, the heartbreak on the remaining officers had been evident no matter who was speaking. But Kes's passing had been taken in stride, no doubt because of its more benign nature, and a few other factors. Tom seemed almost enthusiastic to attend a meeting as "himself" again. Chakotay still wasn't certain how much of Tom's love for Kes had been those pheromones, but he assured himself that there must have been at least _some_ genuine feelings. Linnis seemed to be adjusting surprisingly well to her mother's passing; but of course, for a half-Ocampan, a week might feel more like a month.

"So let me get this straight," Harry said. "You're saying the _only_ way to get that nanovirus into the Collective is to go _inside a Borg cube_?"

From the head of the table, Chakotay replied, "That's about the size of it, Lieutenant."

Dr. Van Gough swapped a mortified glance with Linnis. "We've hardly ever gotten _close_ to a Borg vessel. Now you're talking about waltzing right in the _middle_ of one?"

"I wonder what it's like inside one of those things," Linnis breathed, sounding more intrigued than frightened.

"Well we're not gonna find out," Tom snapped. "Because we can't do it. Chakotay—sorry, _Captain_—we don't have any shielding that can withstand Borg blasts for more than a few hours, and we _definitely_ can't outrun them. Not to toot my own horn, but the only advantage we've ever had against the Collective is my maneuvering skills."

"Correction," Lt. Vorik, the chief engineer, spoke for the first time. "Voyager has had two other advantages: Kes and Linnis's premonitions, and Mezoti and Icheb's nanoprobes."

"_Immature_ nanoprobes, Lieutenant," the Doctor reminded the young Vulcan. "Helpful for treating diseases and injuries, certainly. But for arming Voyager against the Collective, hardly."

"Indeed," Commander Tuvok agreed. "The primary reason that Voyager has managed to avoid assimilation thus far is simply because we have avoided the _Borg_. Icheb and Mezoti's knowledge of Borg whereabouts, and Linnis's intuition, are invaluable assets for our navigational decisions. But for a covert operation, their impact would be minuscule at best."

"He's right, Captain," Lt. Neelix confirmed. "Voyager's tactical systems functioning at their absolute best wouldn't stand a chance against the Borg. And once the drones start beaming onto the ship, none of my security teams would be any match for them. It would be the Talaxian massacre all over again."

Linnis threw up a hand with an agitated sigh. "You see, _this_ is _exactly_ why we should be doing more exploring! Maybe if we'd stopped for a look at that double-ringer last month we'd've found some element that would've improved our warp drive or shields!"

Her father fired back, "That pretty, pink planet was a ball of toxic hurricanes! If we'd had just one hull breach, we could've all been poisoned!"

"We could've at least had a look at the rings," Linnis grumbled. "Those ice chunks would've been the perfect field for flying lessons."

"_Yeah_," Tom said, "and then while we're being sucked into the planet's gravitational pull, we'd be going bowling for asteroids."

Harry glanced at his friend. "I remember a Tom Paris that would've gone for a flight like that in a heartbeat."

Tom scoffed, "_That_ Tom Paris also thought it was a great idea to take that wormhole right into Krenim space…"

Something had been forming in Chakotay's chest, and growing heavier during the entire conversation. A kind of guilt, or shame, about how he'd been running the ship since assuming command. Kathryn Janeway wouldn't have taken such drastic measures to avoid trouble. She would've been forming alliances, gaining new technology, taking Voyager through battles and catastrophes that toughened up the ship and crew. But it was that line of thinking that had gotten her and so many other valuable crewmembers killed.

Linnis shook her head. "There's got to be something we can do. It's Starfleet protocol to answer a distress call, isn't it?"

"True," Vorik said. "But, it is also forbidden by protocol to enter an alien conflict."

Harry replied with a sarcastic laugh. "Well _screw_ protocol! I think I agree with Nurse Linnis, and not just because she's my wife. If we can do _anything_ to help these people, we've got to try. Could anyone at this table honestly be able to live with themselves if we don't?"

"I don't know Harry, I've managed to live with a lot." Tom said darkly.

Linnis's sized up her father with a knitted brow. From her point of view, he'd been acting very differently over the last several days. Harry looked nervously between his wife and best friend. Linnis knew all the stories about Tom's painful past, from B'Elanna to the penal colony; but Harry was the one who'd actually _been_ there in the earlier Voyager years, while Tom was trying to make sense of it all.

"Even in the event that we should succeed," Tuvok warned, "The Queen may learn of Voyager's involvement. And seek retribution."

An uncomfortable silence overtook the table.

"The way I see it," Chakotay said quietly, "This could be a turning point in the war against the Borg. If we pull this off, we'll be delivering a blow that could open countless doorways for people more equip than us to take on the Collective."

"And if we fail, would it be worth it?" Tom demanded. "We have children aboard, remember?"

Linnis shook her head and shrugged. "So we'll move the children off the ship. Send them off in a shuttlecraft with Neelix or something."

Tom practically shouted, "And if Voyager gets destroyed, they'll be alone in the Delta Quadrant, in a shuttlecraft!"

"Well we'll find some friendly race that will take them in! I don't know."

"We can find _something!_" Harry exclaimed. "You're all just making excuses. The right thing to do is to find some way to help them, and damn the risks!"

"Even the risks to the safety of your son?" Tuvok asked.

Harry and Linnis both fell quiet.

"At the end of the day," Dr. Van Gough pointed out, "I believe it's the captain's decision."

All heads turned expectantly to Chakotay. The captain pondered his response for several moments.

"If we do choose to get involved," Chakotay finally said, "It will be done only with the absolute minimal risk to the crew, and to the children onboard. We're not debating whether to go to war with the Borg; that's out of the question. We're simply debating the risk of upsetting the Collective by giving these people one small, helping hand."

"We've avoided the Borg this long," Harry urged, "Imagine if we had actual _drones_, from _inside_ the Collective, to feed us information! This could be worth it for Voyager, even on personal grounds."

Linnis was watching her husband, starry eyed. Not for the first time, Chakotay saw the sense in Harry and Linnis's unusual marriage. The traits Linnis had inherited from her parents—a midway between Tom's sense of adventure and Kes's innocent idealism—created an almost perfect feminine mirror of Harry Kim's personality.

Chakotay decided it was time to wrap up the meeting. "Like the Doc said, the decision's mine. I've heard some compelling arguments from all of you, and I'll need to give it some thought. I'll inform the entire crew when I've made a decision. Dismissed."

* * *

Chakotay sat in his armchair, with the lights dimmed. Below him, on the floor, lay his unwrapped medicine bundle. It was the first time he'd taken in out in almost three years. The spirituality that had once been his strongest loyalty had faded to almost nothing. To Linnis, the Doctor, the majority of the crew, and even Tom, Chakotay had miraculously maintained his good-natured personality and sense of command throughout the entire journey, and had just as much optimistic, spiritual advice to offer as he always had. Only Tuvok, Neelix and Harry had grown close enough to realize that their captain was a shell of his former self. That the friendly smile was often an act, and the words of religious optimism were now little more than rehearsed clichés.

"The Year of Hell"…had any year _not_ been hell? Chakotay struggled to think of a year on Voyager that had been good. Each year had its ups and downs of course, but _overall_, had there been a good year on Voyager? The first year had been filled with painful adjustments, from getting lost, to integrating into Janeway's crew, and finally learning Seska's true identity. Chakotay's memory of the second year was overshadowed by Seska, chasing Voyager with her Kazon allies, and claiming to carry his son. The third year…yes, _that_ year had been a good year. Seska was gone. His friendship with Kathryn was blooming. Watching the sparks between Tom and B'Elanna fly, and knowing that his two troubled, former Maquis officers were close to finally finding happiness…

And then, year four, the Year of Hell.

The Year of Hell that could so easily have been avoided.

When Janeway and Chakotay realized that they were drawing nearer to Borg space, they began searching desperately for some way around it. And then they'd discovered a small wormhole, one that led clean through Borg space. It had been manipulated by some alien civilization, specifically to create a safe bridge through the Collective's territory. If only someone, or something, could have warned them what was on the other side…that the wormhole came out right in the center of Krenim space, where all of the Krenim's deadliest forces were waiting…Had Voyager crept up to Krenim space gradually, no doubt they would have had more time to prepare and adjust to the attacks. Janeway and B'Elanna wouldn't have died—or, at least not so insultingly quickly and easily.

Almost that entire year had been consumed with attempts to escape from Krenim space. Admittedly, there had been a few uplifting moments, with Tom's marriage to Kes, and the birth of Linnis. But those moments hardly compensated for the hell of losing Kathryn and B'Elanna, and a host of other close friends and valuable officers. Joe Carrey, Sam Wildman, Lindsay Ballard, Walter Baxter, and not to mention virtually _all_ of Tuvok's best security officers, including Chakotay's most trusted soldier from the Maquis, Ayala. Neelix hadn't become Chief of Security because he was the obvious choice; it was because there was no one else left who was both qualified and willing to take the job.

Year five had been quiet, by comparison at least. Actually, it had been the least eventful year of the journey so far. After escaping Krenim space, Chakotay had begun a strict policy of avoiding hostile forces at all costs, no matter how many extra months, years or decades were added to their journey. The world-wearily Vulcan who was now Voyager's first officer was only too willing to comply with his new captain's safe, logical choices. Chakotay utilized Kes's growing mental powers, giving the Ocampan the unofficial job of searching new aliens they met for any signs of violent or deceitful thoughts, and combing her premonitions for situations that might prove dangerous. Aside from the occasional spacial anomaly, hostile alien ship, or brush with the Borg, Year Five was spent watching Linnis grow up (literally) and attempts to improve crew morale.

A quiet year, maybe…but not peaceful. Not for Chakotay at least. Year five was almost as painful as the Year of Hell. Early that fifth year, Voyager found the Hirogen array and contacted the Alpha Quadrant. Most of Voyager's crew rejoiced over letters from home, while their captain took in the news that all of his fellow Maquis back home were dead or in prison; the home he'd fought to defend for so many years was lost forever; and a trial likely awaited him should he ever return to Federation space. If any sense of fight had been left in Chakotay after the Year of Hell, that news from home put out the last embers of it for good. His loyalties to the Maquis and to Janeway had both been in vain. The Cardassians and the Delta Quadrant had won. By extension, his loyalties to the Great Spirit began to wane. He spent less time with his medicine bundle, and more time with his punching bag.

Year Six, things got rowdy again. Despite Chakotay's best efforts, Voyager still ran into trouble. A space-dwelling alien, later named "the pitcher plant," tried to lure Voyager with images of Earth; only four unaffected crewmembers—Kes, Naomi, the Doctor and Linnis—had been able to save the ship. Later that year, they ran into the U.S.S. Equinox. Kes helped Chakotay and Tuvok catch onto Captain Ransom's secret activities pretty quickly, but not before those aliens took their toll. But Chakotay suspected that for many, the most agonizing crisis—in some ways at least—had been the two months Voyager spend, stranded in that strange realm, where the stars zipped around the sky like fireflies…

They never learned exactly where they had been, or what was going on. In the middle of an ordinary day, Voyager suddenly slipped into an alternate reality—some form of subspace?—where the laws of physic were in flux. The ship was being pummeled on all sides, simply by the _space itself._ While Vorik's engineering team fought to keep the ship together, Chakotay suddenly contracted a family illness that should have been genetically erased before his birth. For two months, Tuvok assumed command, while the captain hallucinated in sickbay. Only through extensive trial-and-error methods had Dr. Van Gough, Dr. Kes, and Nurse Linnis deduced that some alien life-forms were trying some experimental form of contact on Chakotay's brain. Chakotay, crumbling under insanity, refused to "listen" to their message. Fortunately, Kes and Linnis began to share fragments of his hallucinations; Kes had done something similar in Voyager's second year, with Captain Janeway (during, incidentally, another strange instance that remained unsolved). Ultimately, Kes and Linnis deciphered the alien messages, and instructed Voyager how to get out, while Chakotay remained helpless. How things would have played out if the two Ocampans hadn't been there, he didn't like to think about.

And now they were finishing up Year Seven. Harry had married Linnis, and seared Andrew. They'd rescued five Borg children (counting the infant), and adopted away two of them. Naomi was hitting puberty. They'd run into a colony of asteroid-dwelling Talaxians, whom Neelix helped to defend their home but declined the offer to rejoin them. Even though it was assured that Naomi could be given a new adoptive parent, he was too close to Naomi and Kes's relatives to leave Voyager. It was now up to Chakotay to decide whether Year Seven would end, and Year Eight would begin, with a battle against the Borg.

Once a year, it seemed, Chakotay lost a crucial battle. During the Year of Hell he'd learned that the great Captain Janeway's _couldn't_ take on the Delta Quadrant. And B'Elanna's engineering ingenuity and Klingon spunk, which had helped her survive _everything_ in the Maquis, hadn't saved her out here. Then the very next year he'd learned that the Maquis—a movement _filled_ with fighters as strong and brilliant as Kathryn and B'Elanna—were just as short-lived. And the sixth year, in that strange subspace, he'd learned that even the care his family had taken to protect him from insanity could be undone. He didn't know what he even needed that medicine bundle for tonight; it seemed pretty obvious that the Great Spirit—if such a thing existed, which Chakotay doubted by now—wasn't on his side. All of his past experiences were telling him to stay out of this Borg war. So why had he taken the god damned bundle out in the first place?

Because of the snake.

He'd seen his spirit guide before or during every battle. The snake had appeared to him in his first dream after Kathryn's and B'Elanna's deaths. It had haunted his dreams repeatedly almost the entire Year of Hell, and again for several more weeks after the letters from home. And for those two months of insanity, when he cowered in the jungles of his childhood home, or his prison cell aboard the Kazon ship, or wherever his hallucinations took him, the snake always paid him a visit. His father would have insisted that the spirits were trying to tell him something. His mother, from whom he'd inherited his scientific curiosity, would have said it was something from his subconscious trying to break loose. At the moment, it just seemed like the universe was taunting him.

His rage made him shoot up from his chair and take a seat before the medicine bundle. He suddenly anticipated a meeting with his spirit guide, or his dead friends, or his father, to tell them how wrong they'd been, and demand why he'd been strung along so many years for nothing.

He didn't bother with the chants; they weren't necessarily to activate the Akoonah. He kept his eyes squinted shut, deciding to listen for the sounds of this dream before seeing it. For what felt like several long minutes, he didn't hear anything. Didn't feel anything, but his floor beneath him and the Akoona under his hand. The blood in his arms was pounding, his anger still fresh. He'd often struggled to contain his emotions. Really, he had no _idea_ how someone like—

Small, strong arms squeezed him around the waist, while a familiar body pressed against his back. Chakotay's fury instantly vanished, like flipping a switch. Feeling his friend's hair tickle his neck, he felt a lump swell in his throat, and his eyes began to moisten.

"_B'Elanna_."

* * *

**A/N: What? You thought it would be Janeway? Frak that. Chakotay knew B'Elanna for years before Voyager, and she was like a little sister to him. **

**Special thanks to Scifiromance, Cojack, and Alaster Boneman, for letting me know that they're reading my stories. seems that while plenty of people love to follow and fave my stuff, most of you have some strange phobia of leaving reviews. I won't bite anyone's head off for some constructive criticism. (Hre-hem.) **

**Like it or hate it, PLEASE REVIEW. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I've neglected to issue a special thanks to Scifiromance for not suing me! She's the one who first thought to have Chakotay meet an unassimilated Annika in a forest (in "The Girl Next Door"), and to have the Unimatrix Zero resistance play a key role in an Alternate Universe (in "In Thy Name"). Scifi, thanks for tolerating my obnoxious rip-offs! **

**I don't own "Voyager."**

* * *

Chakotay opened his eyes to the bridge of the Val Jean, his old Maquis ship. He felt no movement besides his own breathing, and that of the half-Klingon hugging him from behind. The ship was as still as if it were landed. But through the window across from him, he could see moving stars. He responded to B'Elanna's embrace by momentarily taking her hand, before pushing himself up from the floor. She released him, and they turned to face each other.

B'Elanna wore her old Maquis uniform, complete with the red vest and knee-high boots. She smiled at him with a silent, nervous laugh, and brushed her fingers over her eye to wipe away some of the tears. Behind her, Ayala sat at tactical, working aimlessly at the controls.

"B'Elanna," Even in this dream, Chakotay was fighting back tears. "How've you been?"

"Bored." She replied.

From tactical, Ayala replied without even looking up, "Same."

Of course they were bored. B'Elanna Torres and Miguel Ayala were both young and full of fight. Neither of them was ready to be dead yet.

Chakotay replied, "It's been pretty empty without you two on Voyager."

"I'll bet!" B'Elanna shook her head. "Chakotay, did Tom _really_ go running to _Kes_ after I died? I could handle maybe Henley, or one of the Delaney sisters. But Kes? What the hell did he ever see in her?"

"I see your pride is as fragile in death as it was in life," Chakotay sighed. "What am I doing here? Why am I aboard the Val Jean?"

B'Elanna folded her arms. "Ask your subconscious, Mr. Symbols."

Her words were a painful reminder that none of this was real.

"So," he glanced around his ship, and noticed his spirit guide coiled up in his old command chair at the helm. "You're here to talk me into helping those drones, I take it?"

"I'm here to get that Maquis heart of yours beating again."

He looked back at her sharply. Seska had said that last bit to him, years ago, after she'd lured him into a Kazon trap.

"What for?" he demanded. "Being a Maquis didn't serve you two out here."

A low, feminine voice cut in, "Being a Starfleet officer didn't serve me any better."

Kathryn Janeway stood in the doorway, with one hand up on the doorframe, the other resting on her hip. Her hair was pulled up into the bun of old, as opposed to the ponytail she'd adopted in the last years of her life.

"All the Starfleet training and Federation alliance-building in the galaxy didn't protect me from the Delta Quadrant."

"My thoughts exactly," Chakotay said bitterly. "If you three have taught me anything it's that neither exploration, nor militant action, will work if I want to protect my crew."

B'Elanna threw the captain and Ayala an odd look. "Why _is_ it just us three? It's not like we're the only people Chakotay's ever been close to. Where's Roberto, Li Paz, Meyer, Sahreen? You'd think if _anyone_ wanted to remind him how useless it is to be a Maquis,"

"I'm surprised his parents haven't shown up!" Janeway added. "They're both dead, aren't they?"

Refusing to let his emotions surface, Chakotay backed against a window, resting his hands on the frame. After pondering their points, he decided, "My mind is on Voyager at the moment. And you three," his eyes jumped from Kathryn, to B'Elanna, to Ayala. "I lost a lot of good friends that year. But if just the three of you were still here…" Then what? What difference would it make in a decision to fight the _Borg_?

"You probably wouldn't be giving this any seconds thoughts," B'Elanna mused.

"Oh," Janeway defended, "I'm sure he'd have some second thoughts on whatever insane plan Captain Janeway came up with. But as for whether we went after the Borg, it wouldn't even be a question. Janeway would have been onboard from the start, damn the Prime Directive and damn the risks. And her Maquis first officer would be right beside her."

"I'd be on that team," B'Elanna said. "I'd be going into that cube. And I'd be brilliant. I'd out-hack the Collective, and maybe take a few drones down with a makeshift bat'leth."

"I'd have his back," Ayala said. "Either on the cube or on Voyager."

There it was. That was the root of Chakotay's problem. He _wanted_ to help those drones. He just didn't know how the hell he was going to do it without Kathryn Janeway, B'Elanna Torres, and Miguel Ayala.

"Well I don't have any of you," Chakotay said. "I have Vorik, whose engineering and fighting skills are mediocure at best. He couldn't improvise his way around a Borg central plexus like you could B'Elanna. And most of my best tactical officers are gone. You're just the icing on the cake Miguel. I've got no advantages, except a half-telepath, and two immature drones."

"Too bad." B'Elanna took a seat in her old chair at the engineering station, folding her arms and crossing her legs. "This could've been the turning point in humanity's battle against the Borg. Might compensate a bit for losing the war against the Cardassians."

"Not to mention the academic opportunities!" Janeway exclaimed. "Meeting all those liberated drones from around the galaxy, it would be an anthropologists' dream come true."

Ayala glanced back at Janeway. "Voyager's tactical systems would _really_ benefit from some Borg technology."

"If I go in as a Maquis," Chakotay's voice rose just slightly, "I'll be destroyed, like the Roberto and Paz and the rest. And if I let that Starfleet curiosity get the better of me again I'll end up like you Kathryn. I don't want another cause to fight for, and I don't want to go back to exploring. This crew is all I've got, and I'm not going to put them in danger."

"I think I'm beginning to see the problem." Janeway left the doorway and came up next to B'Elanna, resting her hand under her chin. "Everyone you've gained since the Year of Hell—Linnis, Andrew, the Borg children, the Equinox refugees—they all depend on you. But _you_ can't rely on _them_."

Ayala grimaced. "No new superheroes to replace the great Captain Janeway, or all the Maquis fighters he lost."

"_But_," B'Elanna threw Ayala an evocative look. "If he got some new Borg drones aboard Voyager—adult drones, with all the knowledge of the Collective, and the tactical advantages of a fully matured drone, that just might make up for losing the three of us."

"With Borg shielding and weaponry," Janeway said, "He could probably get back on track with the exploring, without having to worry so much about the risks. Cure the cabin fever the crew's been suffering for the last few years. And if he got a hold of a Borg transwarp device, he might even get his crew home."

Chakotay shook his head. "I can't get any of these drones aboard my ship, they can't retain their memories once leaving Unimatrix Zero. The issue is simply whether to risk Voyager to help them protect their individuality, within that realm. And I don't see any advantages on my end, over the Borg Queen."

Holding eye contact, Janeway said in a low voice, "Well dreams are your specialty, aren't they Chakotay? Unimatrix Zero should be right up your alley."

"Look, Chakotay," B'Elanna said diplomatically, "You're tired. The Maquis in you had to rest from fighting for a few years, the Starfleet had to take a break from exploring for a while. But if there was ever a time for you to wake up, believe me, this is it."

"Wake up," Chakotay breathed.

God, that was it…

Janeway's eyebrows rose. "I think you've given him an idea, B'Elanna."

B'Elanna blew through her lips. "He gave _himself_ an idea. We're just figments of his imagination, remember?"

"Says who?" Ayala countered. "Just because this is all happening inside his head doesn't mean we can't still be here, in spirit."

"Well, in that case," B'Elanna said dryly, "I guess I'll take Chakotay's subconscious over Grethel."

Something suddenly occurred to Chakotay.

"B'Elanna, before I go, is there anything I can tell Tom? Any messages"

She laughed. "Tell him your subconscious said hello!"

"But—"

She casually swung one booted foot into Chakotay's leg, giving him a firm kick.

He jolted awake.

He was sitting in his quarters, and he could still feel the sting of B'Elanna's kick on his leg.

For the first time in years, that Vision Quest left Chakotay feeling more awake than when he'd entered it. His heart was pounding, and he was practically panting. He felt like he'd just experienced something real, always _used_ to after a Vision Quest. Everything was so clear now, it made so much sense. It was so simple, and so _stupid_. He'd lost his faith in _everything_, because he'd lost the people he _relied on_ the most.

B'Elanna's comment about being "figments of his imagination" rang uncomfortably in his head, along with her refusal to send a message to Tom. But then, he realized, if B'Elanna could visit her old commander in a dream, there was no reason she couldn't do the same for Tom. In fact she probably had; Tom had taken a Vision Quest, before making his decision to marry Kes. Chakotay had encouraged Tom to keep the details of the Vision Quest to himself. But perhaps B'Elanna had given him her approval to move on (despite the distaste she'd just shown to Chakotay).

Chakotay blinked, shaking himself out of his tangent. He could have existential debates with himself later. Right now, there were more urgent matters. He shot up from the floor, and almost began pacing, before stopping himself. He ran a hand over his mouth, deep in thought. Who did he want to contact first? The Doctor or Tuvok? Both at once? Finally he hit his com badge. "Senior officers to the Ready Room."

* * *

**Next chapter will hopefully be up very soon, as I've decided to try posing chapters in bursts. I think it might feel like less pressure than trying to update a chapter per day. I don't know if I'll do that with my longer fics; but for this one, I want it done ASAP. I'm thinking ten chapters for this story, twelve tops. **

**Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed. Reviews, good or bad, are always appreciated. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I made up Axum's species, since it's never given on-screen or on Memory Alpha. **

**I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager"**

* * *

When Annika's regeneration cycle began, she appeared right behind the pavilion. Probably not a coincidence; where one appeared in Unamatrix Zero almost certainly had to do with some unconscious memory of where they'd been the last time. It was the only explanation for why the same drones always appeared in the same general part of Unimatrix Zero, near or close enough to find people they knew.

The resistance leaders were gathered under the pavilion again. Captain Chakotay was standing before them, with his hands on his hips, apparently in the middle of a speech. Icheb was with him, but that girl, Mezoti, wasn't. Annika hurried over to the crowd, and for a moment the captain's eyes locked with hers. Objectively, his eyes were rather interesting looking-that kind that were so dark they just seemed to blend in with the pupils. She might've found them attractive, if her heart didn't still belong to a hazel-eyed Oyntarri man, now over a month dead. The captain's tattoo might also have been interesting, under happier circumstances. But for the moment, all Annika cared about was whether he could help them defeat the Queen.

Her old friend Laura was at the edge of the crowd, looking at Annika over her shoulder. Annika hurried up beside her and whispered, "What'd I miss?"

Laura replied, "Captain Chakotay's agreed to help us. He's about to brief us on his plan."

"Here's the plan," Chakotay said, his eyes moving around the crowd. "My team will enter a damaged Borg cube, and pretend that we're trying to steal a transwarp core. We'll be captured, and get assimilated, but only in body. Our doctor's developed a pathogen to keep our higher brain functions intact. We'll then make our way to the Central Plexus of the vessel, and from there we have two options."

Even in this dream state, Annika could feel her heart pounding.

Chakotay went on. "We can inject the Collective with a pathogen that will simply mask your signatures from the Queen, making it impossible for her to return to Unimatrix Zero…_until_ she comes up with a way to counter it. Or," a new edge entered the captain's voice, "we could inject a pathogen that will _sever_ all of you from the Hive Mind, allowing you to retain your memories in the real world."

Even though no one had been speaking but the captain, Annika could almost feel the pavilion grow more silent.

"The downside of this," Chakotay warned, "is that you'd all be alone on a Borg vessel, and Voyager would have no way to help most of you escape. But know that Voyager will be _opened_ to any of you that need refuge, if you can find us. And we are always opened to accepting new crewmembers."

"Captain," Laura said, "I'd give anything to be aboard a Federation ship again. If the fragments I recall from the real world are any indication, I'm in the Delta Quadrant, like Annika. I'll find a way to get to Voyager, and I'll serve you to my best."

Chakotay locked eyes with the former Firebrand ensign. "I'll be glad to take you aboard Laura."

"That's great for you," the a black Bajoran man called to Laura. "But where will that leave the rest of us?"

The Klingon general Korak smiled toothily. "I have planned for this moment, though I never thought it would ever become a reality. When I'm free, I'll rally the other freed drones, in a _real_ resistance against the Borg. I'm certain many would join my cause."

The Bajoran man's face changed completely. "I'll find you Korak! Count me in! Nothing personal Captain," he added to Chakotay. "But I'd rather be part of a resistance again ,then on a Federation ship lost in space."

Laura shot the Bajoran a look, shocked by his rudeness.

Chakotay gave a long blink, silently telling everyone that they were getting off topic. "But _remember_, this would affect _everyone_ in Unamatrix Zero. Including people who may not want to take that risk. I imagine a lot of people here would want to remain in Unimatrix Zero, rather than try to face the Collective, and the galaxy in general, alone."

Annika and Axum had danced around this argument for months, discussing the ethics of endangering the "civilians" of Unimatrix Zero by angering the Queen. For the first time that day, Annika spoke to the captain.

"Whether they like it or not, no one is safe here. As you said before Captain, even if you mask Unimatrix Zero, it won't stop the Queen from eventually finding it again. Your second idea is our only chance. Many may resent you for it, but liberating them from the Hive Mind is the only practical decision."

The other resistance leaders chimed in with agreement, or concerns. After several minutes of debating, it was decided that Chakotay's second plan was the one they would go with.

"In the meantime," Chakotay said. "I'll be taking some of you through some lucid dreaming techniques that you can use to fight the drones the queen is sending in here. You should teach them to as many others as you can."

"We already know lucid dreaming," the Bajoran man said irritably. "How do you think we got our clothes? How do you think General Korok got that bat'leth, or the Hirogens got their energy-rifles?"

"You're all accomplished in _minor_ lucid dreaming, that's true," Chakotay agreed. "But I can teach you more. So far, you've been fighting the drones with weapons and traps—cleverly done ones, I must add. But I can teach you to warp your very environment. No doubt you've all done a bit of that without realizing it, adding animals and plants to the forest whenever you arrive in this shared dream. But I can show you how to take control of it."

"Captain," Annika said disdainfully, "We've been living here for centuries. We've _been_ experimenting with lucid dreaming. What else do you think we've had to do all this time?"

"Good. Then you'll probably catch on fast. It so happens that I've _fought_ invading aliens in dreams once before—it's a long story. You've protected yourselves this far with guns, blades and nets." Chakotay's eyes narrowed, as they jumped to various drones. "Imagine what you could do if you could add a patch of quicksand into the forest at will, or conjure up an army of Klingon warriors?"

Now he had Annika's attention. "How would we do that? By… concentrating really hard?"

"Your mind retains a small percentage of what you think," Chakotay explained. "More of what you say, and the most of what you do. You'll need to draw from memories—unless some of you have _very_ active imaginations—to get this to work. The mistake a lot of people make with lucid dreaming is treating it like a genie's powers. You're not in a magical realm, you're in your own mind. And you have to trick your own mind into being reminded of certain things." He pointed to a thick, twisted tree. "That tree reminds me of a lot of the ones back home, that my sister and I used to climb. Our father would drag us along for hunts, but I didn't like killing animals. And my sister liked to keep me company." He walked briskly towards the tree as he spoke. "We used to leave our hunting rifles at the bottom of the trunk while we were climbing…" The drones watched him circle behind the tree. He emerged with two standard pulse rifles, about twenty years out of date. "…and here we are."

Many drones, including Annika, were impressed. Others however seemed impatient.

"We _know_ how to get weapons," a Hirogen woman said irritably.

Chakotay hefted one rifle under his arm, and stopped to examine the other. "When I was in the Maquis, I knew someone who could turn this rifle into a deadly weapon even when it was out of ammunition. She once killed the leader of a Cardassian boarding party just by swinging it into the back of his skull. Here you go B'Elanna."

He tossed the rifle to a new woman who suddenly emerged from the forest. This "B'Elanna" was dressed for combat, in earthy browns and reds. Her forehead looked vaguely Klingon. A hybrid, perhaps.

"Who are you?" Annika asked curiously.

B'Elanna shrugged. "Who knows, his conscience maybe."

"Do you have a mind of your own?" Laura asked. "Or is Chakotay controlling you?"

B'Elanna shrugged again. "As much as anyone controls a dream."

"I have a loose control over her," Chakotay said. "Which I suppose could have been said when she was alive too."

There was some kind of inside joke here that the captain was sharing with "B'Elanna." It was the first time Annika had seen him look so happy. But heartwarming as it was, there was also something inherently creepy about seeing him talk to the memory of a dead friend, like it was a real person. Annika immediately wondered how close B'Elanna and Chakotay had been, and if B'Elanna was to Chakotay what Axum was to her. Then she thought about the possibility of conjuring up a figure of Axum, and was instantly repulsed by the idea for multiple reasons. She didn't want to be reminded of Axum. Not until the fight was won.

Icheb was looking at his captain with a mixture of awe and apprehension, probably sharing Annika's discomfort with B'Elanna. Finally he said, "I could bring in a new army of Borg drones, ones on our side."

"If you can, do it." Chakotay ordered. "You'll be in charge of contacts between Unimatrix Zero and Voyager while I'm on that cube."

"_You're_ going aboard the cube?" Annika looked at him quickly.

"I _am_ the captain," he said evenly. "I'm responsible for my crew's safety. It wouldn't be right to dump this on one of my officers. I'll be putting enough of them in danger as it is." He quickly changed the subject. "Alright, we don't have much time. Or at least Icheb and I don't. My ship will reach the damaged cube in just a few hours, and I only have until then to teach you all what I know. After that Icheb will take over. Let's get started."

* * *

Dr. Van Gough pressed the hypospray to Linnis's neck. "This will not only protect your higher brain functions, but it will also double as anesthesia, so you won't feel much pain when the Borg are…transforming you."

Tom, Harry, and Andrew stood in Sickbay, listening while the Doctor went over the details of the plan with Linnis.

"Mom," Andrew begged for the hundredth time that week, "I don't want you to go."

"I have to, Sweetie." Linnis said. "With your grandmother gone I'm the most powerful telepath on board. The captain needs me there to warn the team if the Borg start to catch onto us. Besides, I'll be able to communicate with the other team members when we're separated."

Harry assured his son, "If _anyone_ can pull this off Andrew, it's your mother. I have faith in her and so should you."

"I wish I shared your confidence Harry," Tom said bitterly. "You sure those Ocampan pheromones aren't contributing to that 'faith' you have in my daughter?"

Harry threw his old friend an offended look. "Tom, she's half-_human_. Linnis's pheromones affect me about as much as my cologne affects her. It's not like I wanted to marry her the minute I set eyes on her."

"Well I _hope_ not," Tom scoffed. "Since she was an infant when you met."

"Daddy," Linnis said evenly, "It took me a _long_ time to convince Harry to enter a relationship, you _know_ that."

"A 'long time' _here_ meaning six months!"

"Dad what's _with_ you lately?" Linnis glared at her father.

"What's with me is that I've just lost my wife, and I'm about to lose my daughter to an insane mission! And possibly my grandson next, when the Borg assimilate Voyager!"

Andrew stared at his grandfather, too baffled by his behavior to give much thought to the fear he was already feeling.

Linnis's eyes flared at Tom. "You _never_ would have doubted me, if Mother was still alive!"

Harry always thought it was cute, how Linnis had grown up referring to her parents as "Dad and Mother."

Andrew pouted, "Can't I at least stay on the ship?"

In unison, Tom, Harry and Linnis all exclaimed, "No!"

Linnis took her son gently by the shoulders. "You're going on that shuttlecraft. You won't be alone Andrew. Naomi used to look after me, whenever Voyager was in danger. In fact, she taught _me_ how to look after _her_ after I'd passed her in age. And how to look after you."

It had been decided that Andrew, Naomi, and Mezoti would be sent away in a shuttlecraft, along with Crewman Marla Girlmore and Amanda, the now toddler-aged droneling she'd adopted. To protect them, Chakotay had assigned people who were both skilled in fighting, and experienced in comforting the children: Ensign Chell (the Bolian Maquis now serving as ship's cook), Crewman Marnia Jor (a Betazoid/human hybrid, and former Maquis), Ensign Amelia Jenkins (the nightshift pilot), and Ensign Mar Javin (an elderly, un-joined Trill).

"I don't wanna hide on a shuttlecraft with the girls," the boy grumbled.

"Hey kid," Harry assured his son. "You'll have your own adventures. Think of all the exploring you can do out there. You'll get to see the largest nebula in the sector up close!"

"You mean we'll be _hiding_ in the nebula."

In a better mood, Tom would've helped his best friend in encouraging his son. But for now, all he could think of was his daughter—one of the few good things to come from this journey—on a Borg cube, getting her body stuffed with Borg technology.

"So who else did Chakotay talk intothis suicide mission?" Tom asked dryly.

Linnis grimaced impatiently, refusing to look at her father. "Lt. Vorik, for the engineering related work obviously, and Ensign Gerron, for security."

"_Gerron_?" Tom explained. "Not Tuvok? Or Neelix?"

Gerron was a young Bajoran from Chakotay's old Maquis crew, and was considered something of a shy rookie among the crew. A sort of Maquis equivalent of Harry Kim.

"Neelix's military experience lies more in a traditional style of army," Linnis explained. "He'll serve better on Voyager. Gerron on the other hand has experience as a guerilla fighter. He'll be better to have aboard that cube."

"But what about Tuvok?" Tom said. "I mean, I know we don't normally send the captain and first officer on an away mission together, but if there was ever a time to make an exception—I mean, Harry can take command, can't he?"

Linnis and the Doctor exchanged a knowing glance. Tom, Harry and Andrew took notice.

"Linnis?" Harry asked his wife. "Is there some reason Chakotay doesn't want Tuvok on that mission?"

Dr. Van Gough quickly said, "It's confidential. All you need to know is that Commander Tuvok can't join the mission to the cube, but he should have no trouble commanding Voyager."

"_Should_?" Tom repeated.

* * *

Unimatrix Zero was hardly recognizable—at least, the section Chakotay and Icheb were in. It was like something out of a holodeck training program. The forest echoed with the blasts of pulse weapons and swishes of blades, as the freethinking drones brushed up on their fighting skills and lucid dreaming techniques. They were catching on quickly. In several areas, the forest _itself_ was now changing to their wills. Chakotay watched a tree go up in blue flames, then quickly return to its previous state, under the intent eyes of a Bajoran man. A ways away, the old Orion woman was strolling through trees and boulders like a ghost, occasionally bumping into the trunks or getting stuck, before regaining control. General Korok marched by, leading a pack of horned targs, and instructing his two Hirogen friends on how to command them.

Icheb hesitantly approached one of the targs. The animal bared its teeth with a low growl, but didn't move.

"They'll only respond to Klingon commands," Korok assured Icheb. "I can teach you."

Lost in thought, Icheb replied, "There were creatures similar to these, on my home planet." He looked up when he saw Chakotay approaching. "Captain."

Chakotay responded with a curt nod. "Seems everyone's catching on pretty quickly."

"Captain," Icheb said. "You never told me that you once were treed by a Cardassian hound in a forest like this."

Chakotay stopped. "Who _did_ tell you?"

"B'Elanna Torres. Or rather your memory of her. She said that when she and Bendera found you, they had to phaser the animal several times before it would go down."

It hadn't occurred to Chakotay that the image he'd conjured up of B'Elanna could actually develop a personality of its own, complete with memories. But then, if she was just an extension of _Chakotay's_ mind…

"Where is she, right now?"

"Down by the stream. Speaking with Annika, and Laura."

Chakotay swallowed. "I see." He wasn't sure how he felt about two women he barely knew conversing with his memories of dead friends. "Thanks Icheb."

He ventured down the hill towards the riverbank. Annika and Laura were crouched over some bushes, as if catching fireflies. B'Elanna—his shade of B'Elanna—watched them with folded arms, as if observing some impressive trick. When he got close enough to see what was flying around the bushes he stopped and stared, then continued briskly to the bushes and knelt beside them. In her hands, Annika cupped a tiny woman, the size of a figurine, in a white flowing dress, with wings buzzing like a firefly's. The entire bush was filled with what looked like pixies, straight out of some high-fantasy holonovel.

"Laura's doing," Annika said, rising to a stand.

The brunette woman explained, "I'm a fan of fantasy and mythology." She cleared her throat, as if with embarrassment. "Aboard the Firebrand I used to make holo-paintings of fantastical creatures like this, for my shipmates. Though they never came out looking quite this realistic."

"You have quite an imagination Laura," Chakotay said.

"I'll say," B'Elanna agreed.

Chakotay glanced uncomfortably at his dead friend's likeness. He was beginning to regret conjuring her up.

"Captain," Annika set her fairy loose, and turned to face Chakotay. "Miss Torres tells me you were once joined to a Borg collective."

"A 'cooperative' actually," he corrected her. "It didn't go well."

"You were in a relationship with a woman named Riley."

He almost looked at B'Elanna accusingly, before remembering that she wasn't real. "B'Elanna wouldn't share personal information like that!"

"Maybe not." Annika replied. "But now that you've cast a bit of your memory into Unimatrix Zero, it appears to be very talkative. You didn't realize that could happen? I thought you were the expert?"

Chakotay swallowed. "I've never actually _shared_ a lucid dream with anyone before, except that time Voyager was invaded by…" he trailed off, seeing the two women's expressions.

A familiar body suddenly slithered through the grass between Chakotay and the women. Almost smiling, Annika bent over to pick the snake up.

"Don't touch that!" Chakotay said quickly.

Without even looking up, Annika assure him, "I won't let it bite me." She picked the snake up with both hands, pinching the base of its neck, holding its head away from her like a trained expert. "I don't think these types are even poisonous, are they?"

Chakotay gapped. He didn't know how to convey to her that this was worse than groping his privates. He could think of no feeling to compare it to. It was like she was holding a chuck of his brain, or a chunk of his soul. His spirit guide didn't hiss or snap like a real snake would. It simply stared at Chakotay, with unblinking black eyes. The words got lost in his throat for several seconds.

"P-Put that down!"

"Why?" Annika casually threw the snake over her shoulders like a feather boa.

Laura chuckled, while B'Elanna's shade gave Chakotay an unreadable look.

Chakotay seized the snake by the tail and yanked it off Annika, tossing it to the ground. His spirit guide hissed at him, and slithered away. Chakotay stood there heaving, almost shaking. Laura immediately stopped laughing.

"Captain?" Annika stared at him curiously.

While Chakotay was pondering his response, a hum cut through the air. Chakotay whirled around and readied his phaser-rifle. Laura and Annika reached for their weapons. They all knew the sound; Borg drones were entering Unimatrix Zero again. As soon as a drone was almost finished materializing in front of him, Chakotay fired, eliminating it from Unimatrix Zero. But dozens of others were taking its place, all around the forest.

Laura and Annika took down the next two drones that materialized. B'Elanna's shade quickly phasered a new drone as soon as it arrived. She then spun to take down another with the butt of her rifle, knocking it to the ground. The fight took them off into the forest, and after a few minutes Chakotay became separated from Lara, Annika and B'Elanna.

As he tore through the trees, he ran through all the best fighters he'd known in the Maquis and on Voyager, hoping to enlist more help. His thoughts were interrupted when a Borg claw shot out of the trees, seizing him around the throat. It raised its assimilation tubes, but was suddenly vaporized.

"Need a hand, Captain?" the shade of Kathryn Janeway asked, stepping from behind a tree, her phaser drawn.

* * *

From the heart of a Borg transwarp hub, the Queen watched her Collective's progress from a multi-gridded viewscreen, which displayed Unimatrix Zero. What her drones saw, the Queen saw. She moved from one drone's sight to the next, as easily as blinking. At the moment, she was watching through the eyes of Four of Eight, Secondary Adjunct of Unimatrix 491. Four of Eight successfully assimilated three minds out of Unimatrix Zero, before he was cut down by a Klingon's bat'leth, and forced back out of the illusion.

By now, the Queen was used to seeing her rebellious drones fight back in Unimatrix Zero, with the crude weapons they manufactured or conjured up with their minds. But something was different this time. They appeared to be warping the very fabric of the realm, almost like telekinetics. Entire trees fell over without cause, crushing drones in their path. Boulders rolled down the hills, as if directed by some invisible force, curving around the individuals of Unimatrix Zero and running down the Queen's drones.

The drone she was now visually following, One of Twelve, was had just seized an immature Bajoran male and was prepared to assimilate, when an aged Orion female suddenly appeared before the drone, and—seemingly with only a glance—caused One of Twelve to ignite in a ball of blue flames. The Bajoran broke free of the drone, somehow undamaged by the blaze. The entire screen was engulfed in fire before the drone "died," waking up in its alcove light-years away. Next, the Queen jumped to the vision of Six of Ten, from Unimatrix 14. She immediately left this drone's mind, upon realizing that it was in the middle of being torn apart by a pack Klingon targs. Klingon targs shouldn't have been powerful enough to pull the flesh or implants apart from a Borg drone. And trees shouldn't do so much damage either.

The Queen had found Unimatrix Zero to be disorganized and chaotic from the start, but now that chaos had grown exponentially, in only a matter of hours. Somehow, the resisting drones had made a breakthrough. Had they gained outside help? The Queen ran through her list of enemies. Captain Picard hadn't crossed her path in several years. And since obtaining a new body (after he'd destroyed her previous one), the Queen had quite lost interest in Jean Luc and Data. Her most recent enemy, before these rebels of course, was Species 8472. But such life forms were easily identifiable, being unlike anything from this universe, and no scans of any kind showed signs of them in Unimatrix Zero.

The screen flickered, as the Queen scrolled through the minds of all the drones currently in Unimatrix Zero. She finally stopped at a drone (Six of Eleven) that was attempting to assimilate a captured Hirogen. The Hirogen was not responding. Something felt wrong. Normally, when one of her drones encountered one of these rebels, the Queen could still sense a vague connection to the "free-thinking" drone, even before it was re-assimilated. But this Hirogen had no such connection. It felt empty, like the trees and animals that were attacking her other drones. It was an illusion. The rebels had learned to conjure up allies for themselves. But how? How was this possible?

She continued scrolling through drones, until one individual caught her eye. It was a male Brunali fighting with a Federation phaser. What had caught the Queen's eye was a visible cybernetic implant between his eye and nose crest. None of the usual residents of Unimatrix Zero retained any of their implants. She immediately recognized the look of a severed drone, one of those that had been retrieved by their original species, and had most of their implants removed.

Though it was unnecessary, the Queen gave the order out loud: "Identify this drone."

Almost instantaneously, the Collective responded: "Immature drone. No designation assigned. Maturation Chamber 456892, Sector 571…"

As the Collective recited the information, the memory flew back to the Queen. A cube, damaged beyond repair, with no survivors save a group of immature drones beyond saving. She had deemed them irrelevant and left them for dead. Apparently, someone had salvaged these immature drones, to use against her. Her jaw tightened, as she realized what she had done, by simply discarding damaged drones throughout the galaxy, callously assuming they couldn't come back to haunt her. It had been foolish to leave all those severed drones alive and intact, where they could be salvaged by her enemies. She should have destroyed them, leaving no traces. Obviously, a change in policy was in order.

Through the eyes of the drone she was visually riding on, the Queen watched the Brunali boy duck behind trees, firing at his attacker with a startling precision. Not far off, another individual began shouting orders to him. Clearly, he was the Brunali's commanding officer. The Queen zeroed in on the man. A human male, with a primitive facial marking, and a Federation uniform.

"Identify." The Queen demanded.

The Collective searched its database for several seconds before responding.

"Chakotay, commanding officer of Maquis Raider Val Jean. Wanted by the Federation with a bounty of eleven-hundred credits."

"Not anymore, obviously," the Queen mumbled.

By how many years was the Collective's information out of date? The Queen knew of the Maquis, from the Federation and Cardassian ships she'd assimilated. But the Borg hadn't ventured into Federation space for some time. After the loss of their first queen, the Collective had decided to retreat from the Alpha Quadrant, and spend several years preparing for their next attack. Apparently, the Federation had been doing the same.

Chakotay's adrenaline was surging. He'd only ever admitted it to Kathryn Janeway, but he'd always taken a secret satisfaction in battle. He was feeling an excitement he hadn't felt since before the Year of Hell, back to his days in the Maquis, and fighting the Kazon and Vidiians with Voyager. Having his old friends at his side again made a world of difference. It was almost like a nostalgic dream. He was actually a bit disappointed to hear Tuvok's voice in the back of his mind, telling him it was time to pull out of Unimatrix Zero.

_Captain Chakotay, Icheb, Voyager has reached the Cube. You must exit Unimatrix Zero. _

Chakotay saw Icheb hesitate before his next phaser fire, clearly having heard Tuvok's voice. Chaktay exchanged glances with Janeway and B'Elanna, recalling once more that they weren't real. He knew he would see them again, but it was impossible to predict when; dreams and vision quests were often unpredictable.

Kathryn finally said, "It sounds like your ship needs you Captain."

Chakotay decided not to leave until he saw Icheb go first.

"Icheb!" he called.

The boy acknowledged the captain's voice, but suddenly became distracted. Icheb's eyes moved upward, staring over at the hills. Chakotay followed his gaze. The forest was on fire, or at least part of it was. A massive creature with a reptilian head suddenly reared above the trees, with fire billowing from its fanged mouth.

Chakotay had to laugh inwardly. _Nice work, Laura! _

He didn't blame Icheb for wanting to stay and watch the dragon, but now simply wasn't the time.

"_ICHEB!_" he barked, finally getting the boy's attention.

Both Icheb and Chakotay bolted awake in the cargo bay. Tuvok removed his hands from their foreheads.

"Captain," Tuvok said urgently. "I attempted several times—"

"I know, I'm sorry Tuvok." Chakotay hurried out of the room, with Tuvok tailing him. "Icheb, Doc, you two stay here in case Icheb's needed in Unimatrix Zero. But he's _not_ to enter unless it's _absolutely_ necessary, understood?"

He said the last words to the hologram, as if Icheb were a child who needn't be consulted. Icheb didn't look pleased about being spoken of this way.

"Understood." The Doctor said. "And Captain…good luck."

Chakotay nodded. "We'll need it."

* * *

**A/N: Minions of Q, what have I done to Unimatrix Zero? I've turned it into "World of Warcraft!" **

**I am **_**not**_** an expert on lucid dreaming, and cannot promise that any of these techniques will work well in real life. I have some experience in *armature* lucid dreaming, but nothing at the levels Chakotay does in this story. I borrowed a lot from movies like "Inception" and "The Matrix." **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager."**

* * *

The data available on Chakotay was limited. But it was clear that he had ceased to be a Maqius commander, judging from his Federation uniform. He wore the pips of a Federation captain. And he clearly had some kind of vendetta against the Collective. Less than a day after he'd shown up in Unimatrix Zero, he was discovered aboard a damaged cube, attempting to steal a transwarp core. The Queen watched her view screen impassively, as her drones converged and assimilated. Chakotay's attempted theft was pathetic; he came in with a team of only four, himself included. The Queen was almost disappointed; she had been anticipating a new worthy foe, like Captain Picard or Species 8472.

The Bajoran went first, seized from behind by a drone and penetrated in the jugular vein with assimilation tubes. The Vulcan put up more of a fight, and actually attempted the Vulcan nerve pinch on one drone. The drone seized the Vulcan's wrist with its claw, and with its humanoid hand, stabbed him in the throat with its assimilation tubes. A Borg wheel immediately erupted on the Vulcan's cheek, and a long silvery web crawled across his forehead. The only female of the group was at a wall panel, attempting to send out a distress call. The drone that had assimilated the Bajoran turned around and jabbed her in the back of the neck with its tubes. She emitted a short cry, and sank to the floor panting, as the implants sprouted around her face. The drone ran a green scanning light through her body.

"_Hybrid. Half-human. Other species, unidentified_. _Heightened cerebral cortex: probability of telepathic abilities 97%._"

"She will add greatly to the Hive Mind," the Queen whispered, anticipating the moment when she'd finally feel the new species' thoughts. But assimilation took time; the initial injections were only the beginning of a timely process.

Captain Chakotay came around the corner to assist the female officer, and was stopped in his tracks by one of the drones. He struggled futilely as the drone dragged him across the hall and slammed him against the wall opposite the female. Chakotay clawed at the drone's cybernetic arm, as if he thought his feeble organic muscles could offer sufficient resistance. While Chakotay was held in place, the drone that had assimilated the female approached and inserted its assimilation tubes just underneath his jaw. The contorted agony on Chakotay's face brought the Queen great satisfaction.

She wasn't surprised that she didn't hear any of her new drones' voices right away. Their voices would be chaotic, disorganized, and the Collective usually blocked such sounds from the Queen's mind until they'd calmed. When the assimilation process was completed, she would hear them. Silently, she ordered the four taken to the nearest assimilation chamber. She particularly anticipated the arrival of the female's and Chakotay's minds. A new species was always a treat; and the Queen wanted to know everything how Captain Chakotay had entered Unimatrix Zero, and what he was doing in the Delta Quadrant.

* * *

Just as Dr. Van Gough had promised, the hypospray not only kept Chakotay's mind clear, but it also dulled the pain to practically nothing. But there was still plenty of discomfort, both physical and emotional. Lying on the operating table, Chakotay stared straight ahead at the ceiling, determined not to react to anything they did to him. Fortunately, he didn't have to work hard to act like a drone at the moment; he was so numb from terror and shock and what he'd done, to himself and his team, that he'd have had a difficult time moving even if he wanted to. Was this a dream? Had he _actually_ taken an away team right into a Borg cube? Chakotay's fear of assimilation trumped everything—insanity, torture, death, prison. One month ago he might have taken Voyager right back into Krenim space rather than face the Borg.

Linnis Paris's voice suddenly echoed through his head. _Too late for second thoughts now, Captain. _

Chakotay dared a swallow. Thankfully, none of the drones noticed. _You often eavesdrop on your commanding officers' thoughts, Nurse Paris? _

Chakotay knew that Kes had taught her daughter never to enter anyone's mind without their permission unless it was absolutely necessary.

_You brought me along to keep tabs on everyone. Right? _

His fear was momentarily replaced by embarrassment, which Linnis no doubt sensed. _Feel free to check on Gerron or Vorik. _

Linnis didn't reply.

He heard the drones rummaging through something, either implants they planned to put in him, or tools they'd use to do it. Chakotay gripped the edges of the table in an attempt to steady himself, hoping the Borg wouldn't notice. It took immense effort to keep his eyes glued on the ceiling. A drone suddenly hovered over him, threatening him with a long cylindrical appendage resembling a high-tech drill. This drone was probably designed especially for assimilation. The drill activated, the high-pitched whirl screaming in Chakotay's ear. When the drill connected with his skull, the sensation was so jarring (despite being absent of pain) that he involuntarily gasped, and his entire body cringed.

The drone immediately withdrew, and for a moment Chakotay feared he'd given himself away. All drones in the room froze, the lights around their bodies flaring, as they apparently received new orders. One of them activated some kind of system on the operating table, and clamps for Chakotay's arms and legs unfolded mechanically. Apparently, involuntarily movements were normal among newly-assimilated drones. Once he was locked in, Chakotay ordered himself to focus on the plan, and on his curiosity; make observations about the Borg, how they assimilated. Truth, he'd often wondered how the Borg decided which implants to give which drones…

The first few minutes were the worst. When a drone hovered a spinning blade over his chest, Chakotay prepared to be dissected, only to realized that they were just cutting off his uniform. As he was stripped, he saw his entire body had gone a ghostly white, and a web of silver nanoprobes was spreading throughout. The drones scanned each part of his body before applying implants and armor. A thin tube was inserted into his cheek, and two larger ones in his belly—the two areas he'd never been able to shed his "baby fat." Interesting. The tubes he'd seen framing so many female drones' breasts suddenly came to his mind. They probably had something to do with distributing body fat throughout the drone. His left eye, the one his vision had always been slightly worse in, was soon fitted with a small round eye implant. Mercifully, the eyeball itself wasn't removed, only covered.

_Captain_, Linnis Paris's soft voice entered his head. _Are you alright?_

_Fine Linnis_. He replied silently. _What about the others? _

_Vorik and Gerron are okay, but both very nervous. I can see you are too. _

Chakotay's head suddenly felt cold, and he realized his hair was falling out. He resisted the urge to move his eyes away from the ceiling.

_Captain, _Linnis warned, _the Collective is eager to start hearing our voices soon. They're waiting for us to join the Hive Mind. We have to get that virus into the Central Plexus as fast as possible._

_Understood. Good work Linnis._

* * *

Before exiting the assimilation chamber, Chakotay caught his reflection in a section of the metallic wall. He expected not to recognize himself, but was far more disturbed to find that he was _quite_ recognizable. Seeing his own chiseled features and dark slanted eye (the other now hidden) on the bald, white face of a drone was unsettling to say the least. Curiously, his tattoo remained completely untouched. It was as if the Borg had deliberately avoided it when deciding where to place the implants in his head.

He exited the chamber to find his three officers already waiting for him in the hall. Vorik was working (or pretending to work) at a wall panel. Linnis was flexing her hand, now caged in a web of silver. And Gerron was wandering the room aimlessly. Vorik and Linnis were recognizable by their ears, and Gerron by his nose. Chakotay noticed that Gerron's right hand now ended in a three-bladed claw. Vorik, meanwhile, had a noticeable web of silver covering almost half his face. Linnis, like Chakotay, had a cybernetic disc covering one eye. It was very strange, to see Linnis's pixy-like ears and features, covered in Borg technology.

"Gerron," Chakotay asked, as quietly as possible. "Your hand."

"It's still in there," the young Bajoran assured him. "Though I my fingers seem to be connected to the…" He trailed off.

Chakotay turned to Linnis. "Your eye, Linnis?"

"Still there." She said, in a low mechanical voice. "Yours?"

Chakotay almost nodded, before remembering that on a Borg cube, such a gesture might be more of a giveaway than a raised voice. Quietly he replied, "Mine too."

"Captain," Linnis whispered. "The Queen is still waiting to hear our voices. I can hear her now, through the minds of the drones on this cube. She's asking them why she can't hear us yet."

"Then we'd better get moving." Chakotay replied.

They hurried to the Central Plexus of the cube, and wasted no time. Linnis and Vorik removed the cover plating, and were soon drowned in the green light from within the panel. Linnis and Vorik worked as quickly and discretely as they could, while Gerron and Chakotay stood watch.

"Captain," Gerron said, as heavy footsteps echoed from the hall.

"They're not onto us yet," Linnis assured him, keeping her eyes on her work.

"They will be when they walk in here and see us," Chakotay warned. "Gerron, help me find a way to close this door."

"I don't think there _is_ a door, Captain," Gerron said.

"We're close to success," Vorik said. "Another minute at the most."

Linnis suddenly froze. "They're onto us!"

"Keep working!" Chakotay ordered. "We'll hold them off! Gerron,"

Gerron raised his new claw, his face now that mask of confidence he'd always worn during battle in the Maquis. Chakotay searched for a blunt object to use as a weapon, and found none. He wondered if his fists would be suitable weapons against drones, now that he _was_ one. When the first drone stepped into the room, Gerron immediately took it down with a smack in the face from his cybernetic arm. With effort, Chakotay raised his heavily armored arm, and delivered a stiff punch to the next drone's face. The drone staggered, then resumed its march. Chakotay attempted to throw another punch, but the drone seized him around the wrist, stopping his fist inches from its face. It yanked Chakotay's entire arm forward, pulling him out into the hall. A second drone grabbed his other arm, and they began to drag him down the corridor.

"Captain!" Gerron tried to follow, but was stopped by a green force-field in the doorway.

"Success," Vorik declared from the Central Plexus panel.

"They're free!" Linnis gasped. "I can feel it! I can hear their minds! _Some_ of them at least! The ones nearby." She seemed on the verge of tears. "It's so beautif…" Her face suddenly changed. "Some of them are being found out by the Borg…"

"_We've_ been found out by the Borg," Gerron eyed the doorway helplessly. "And they've made off with the captain."

Linnis's pale eyes darted, as she read the Queen's thoughts. "They won't do anything to him right away," she said numbly. "The Queen wants to ask Chakotay some questions. She wants to find out who he is, how he got here. How he developed this pathogen."

"Can we contact Voyager?" Gerron asked. "Can your telepathy reach that far Linnis?"

"I…maybe…"

Vorik warned, "But now that the Collective is onto us, Voyager would be of little service."

"Hang on," Linnis's eyes narrowed slowly. "Hang on a moment, we might be in luck..."

Chakotay taken to a cluttered deck and forced into a tight cylindrical structure. When the drones activated it, his vision flickered, and suddenly he found himself standing in a similar structure, but in an entirely different room. He was facing the Borg Queen. He glanced down at himself, and saw his Starfleet uniform. He lifted his hands, and found them tanned and free of implants; but he could still _feel_ the metallic armor weighing them down. In the reflection of a metallic wall, he saw himself, unassimilated. But his movement was still constricted by the implants and armor covering his body, and he still felt the cold air hitting his bald head. Obviously his newly restored human form was only an illusion.

The Queen. Oh god. He was speaking to the _Borg Queen_. He'd seen images of her in Starfleet's database, and heard the stories about Captain Picard and others who'd had run-ins with her. Supposedly, she was quite a vamp, notorious for caressing her guests' cheeks and speaking to them in a sultry manner. Chakotay had had enough of that from Seska, and prayed to the spirits that he wasn't the Borg Queen's type.

"I had the transmission altered," the Queen explained, "in order to observe your form before assimilation."

_Great. _

"Why?" he asked, nervously.

She approached, sizing him up. She didn't answer his question, but to his relief, she didn't seem to be eying him with anything resembling affection. In fact, she seemed flabbergasted to find herself speaking to him, as if she couldn't believe someone as insignificant as Chakotay could have outwitted her. He was surprised to find his pride slightly hurt.

Locking eyes with him, she demanded, "What are you doing in the Delta Quadrant?"

He suddenly wished, more than anything, to have Kathryn Janeway standing beside him. The two of them had always faced the worst foes together—Seska, the Kazon, the Vidiians, Captain Braxton, Henry Starling... The last time he'd spoken one-on-one a seemingly unstoppable enemy alone like this, he'd been in the Maquis. Really, the Borg Queen was in many ways very much like the Cardassian guls he'd faced. Cold, calculating, merciless.

"You're alone out here." The Queen said. "We've detected no other Federation ships in this quadrant. The Federation hasn't extended this far out yet."

Chakotay didn't know what to give her. Revealing that Voyager was fending for itself out here would be fatal. And under no circumstances would he say anything about Linnis's people, back at the edge of the quadrant, who had apparently remained undisturbed by the Borg until now.

"_Explain_," the Queen demanded. "Or I'll dismantle your comrades."

"We came through a wormhole," Chakotay quickly lied. "It destabilized and we were stranded out here. We've been trying to reach home ever since."

"A likely story," she sneered. "If you simply wished to return to your collective, why would you get involved in a war that doesn't concern you?"

"I received a distress call and I answered it."

The Queen moved in further, until her eyes were inches from his. Chakotay could feel his face contorting in disgust. When confronted with Cardassians, Kazon or Vidiians, Chakotay wore a face of strong defiance. When facing a Borg drone on the other hand, he was usually like a deer in the headlights. But facing the Borg Queen, he found—somehow—that his only reaction was a mild cringe. She really was vile looking.

"Commander Chakotay. You were Maquis. An enemy of the Federation. Yet somehow, they've assimilated you."

His rage boiled at the insult. But of course, that was exactly what she wanted. "Are you going to give me a speech about how we're 'not so different?'"

"No." she said plainly. "I'm going to dismantle your crew. Unless you tell me how you designed that pathogen, and how I can counter it."

* * *

"Linnis, what are you doing?" Vorik stared down at the half-Ocampan, with as much concern as a Vulcan could show.

Linnis was kneeling as if in pain, squinting her uncovered eye shut. "I'm…trying to contact… freed drones who are telepaths….so far away…"

"Hang on," Gerron said from the doorway, speaking half to himself. "I might be able to deactivate this force field…"

Turning back to Linnis, Vorik mused, "Vulcans are able to communicate brief messages across vast distances. But only under specific circumstances. I did not realize the Ocampa were capable of a similar ability."

Still concentrating, Linnis said, "We'll find…out…" she shook her head. "I can't reach them. They're too far."

Vorik brought up his arm with a mechanical wheeze, and placed his hand on her forehead. "If you'll permit me, Nurse." Vorik closed his eyes. "My mind to your mind."

Linnis breathed deeply, and nodded, agreeing to the meld.

Gerron muttered, "I suppose two telepaths are better than one."

Linnis suddenly gasped.

"Linnis?" Gerron looked at her sharply.

Still locked in the meld, Linnis was cringing painfully, as tiny electrical bolts flickered at the base of her skull. Vorik tightened his grip on her head, his own face showing signs of struggle. Linnis opened her mouth to speak, or scream, but no sound came out. Her eye momentarily widened in shock, but she managed to work it back down to a squint as she regained control. But as her concentration increased, apparently so did her pain. Sparks suddenly shot out from the back of her skull, and she slumped out of Vorik's grasp.

"Linnis!" Gerron left the doorway. "Vorik? Are you still with us?"

Panting, the Vulcan drone replied, "Affirmative. What…what is Linnis's status?"

"I'm getting a weak pulse." Gerron said, feeling her neck. "Were you two successful?"

"We were," Vorik said, still panting. "Now, we must hope that our allies will be successful in reaching us, before it is too late."

* * *

"The Borg are not unfamiliar in the art of deception," the Queen said. "I know you're lying to me. But I'm capable of patience. I suppose I'll learn your true intentions after I dissect your pathogen, and succeed in assimilating you."

Chakotay licked his lips. "You can take our individuality. But you—"

The room suddenly flickered. The Queen looked as confused as Chakotay was.

The next thing he knew, he was back in the previous room, looking fully assimilated again. The transmission had been cut. And right when he'd finally thought of something epic to say to her. (He'd been about to say that she could take their individuality, but not their desire to fight for it, and go off of that into some impassioned speech.) Two drones stood before him, but not the ones who'd apprehended him at the Central Plexus. Those two, he now noticed, were on the ground, deactivated. The drones standing before him were both female.

One bore into him with a gray-blue eye. He'd seen eyes that exact shade of blue somewhere, just recently. Her other eye was covered—or replaced—with a long, jagged implant. The other drone was shorter, and lacked one hand; from her right forearm extended a thin but grizzly-looking claw. Her right eye was covered by a blinking headpiece, from which several tubes extended.

"Captain Chakotay." The drone with the blue eye said, through an eerily mechanical voice. "We thank you for freeing us. And now, I think, is a good time for us to get the hell out of here."

"We've contacted your ship." The other drone said. "They'll be here within moments."

His eye bounced between the two drones. Finally landing on the blue-eyed one, he whispered, "_Annika_?"

She nodded, with the barest hint of a smile.

The second cleared her throat. "And Laura," she said dryly. "I'm here too."

"Got anymore dragons for the Borg Queen?" Chakotay asked Laura.

"How about a Klingon?" She said. "And three vessels controlled by liberated drones."

* * *

**A/N: I re-watched Unimatrix Zero, in part to write this fic. I loved the scene where the entire bridge crew gets to meet the Borg Queen (via the view screen). Chakotay's expression is hilarious. Janeway looks defiant, Harry looks terrified, Tom looks shocked….and Chakotay just looks mildly grossed out. **

**But seeing all the ass that B'Elanna kicked as a Borg drone made it all the more painful to write this version without her. B'Elanna's absence is by far the most difficult part about writing this story, which is why it's going to come up as a plot point time and time again. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I don't own "Voyager."**

* * *

_Captain's Log, Supplemental: It's been an…interesting few weeks. I've done my best to keep on top of my log entries, but with all that's been going on, I've been falling behind. And I feel the need to go over current events again, if for nothing else, to clear my own mind. _

_A little over three weeks ago, Voyager chose—I chose—to help the free-thinking drones of Unimatrix Zero, in their battle to protect their individuality. Our objective was to seal off Unimatrix Zero from the Queen, and liberate all of its inhabitance from the Collective, both while regenerating and in the waking world. The mission was a success, with minimal casualties. The away team and the shuttle craft with the children successfully rendezvoused with Voyager after the mission was complete. We then met with some cubes that had been hijacked by liberated drones, and they helped fit Voyager with some systems upgrades. We now have shielding and weaponry that can help us hold our own against the Borg. They've also given us some salvaged transwarp technology they were able to spare. It wasn't enough to get us home, but it cut decades off our journey. At this rate, it will take less than twenty years to reach Earth. _

_Unimatrix Zero has been successfully blocked from the Borg Queen. All of the drones with the mutation were severed from the Hive Mind, denying the Queen access to their world, waking or asleep. From what I gather, they now use Unimatrix Zero as a meeting place, to discuss plans against the Collective, and possible ways to reach each other in real life. Icheb and Mezoti have begun to use it to meet other former drones. I have to say I'm sometimes a bit jealous that the children have the chance to live a double-life._

_Of the handful of these liberated drones that were within range of Voyager, three of them wished to join my crew. Annika Hanson and Ensign Laura Kovacs are two of them. The third is a joined Trill, named Shardan Xin. Due to the biology of a joined Trill, Shardan won't survive the process of being separated from the Collective. Dr. Van Gough has given him six months. Shardan knew he probably wouldn't make it, but was adamant on bringing his symbiont, Xin, to Voyager, in the hopes that we might have a Trill onboard who could take it in. As fate would have it, we have three, all un-joined. It's up in the air who's going to become the lucky—or maybe _un_lucky—Trill. In all honesty, I don't know if I envy or pity the one who will be given all the memories and emotions of a joined Trill that was once a Borg drone. _

_The crew's had other difficulties to face since the mission. We lost five people in the battle against the Borg: Lt. Kotter, Ensign Barbarino, Ensign Epstein, Crewman Washington, and Crewman Horshack. I take comfort in the fact that they lived full lives, and died full deaths, rather than being assimilated. _

_Hanson and Kovacs are adjusting well to Voyager. They're still recovering in Sickbay, as the Doctor removes as many of their implants as he's able. Unfortunately, because they were drones for so long, some of their implants will be permanent. Kovacs is also absent one hand; the Doctor's working on designing a prosthetic for her. But their minds are perfectly human, and they haven't completely lost the time they were assimilated, thanks to Unimatrix Zero. Dr. Van Gough notes that if not for that pathogen, they likely wouldn't remember any of their time in Unimatrix Zero, and would have lost their years as drones. For Laura Kovacs and Shardan Xin, that would be difficult; for Annika Hanson, who was assimilate at age six, it would have been devastating. I doubt she would've been able to become human again, without her memories Unimatrix Zero. _

_I'm getting off topic…. _

_I've reinstated Kovacs' Starfleet rank as Ensign, and officially assigned her to work in Engineering with Lt. Vorik. Annika will take a little more time to find her niche, since she was assimilated at such a young age, and wasn't able to develop much of a career yet. _

_The last difficulty we face is Nurse Linnis Paris. She was rendered unconscious aboard the cube, when she contacted the freed drones for help, and remains in a coma. Her brain suffered a traumatic blow, due to putting such a drastic strain on her powers while there was Borg technology inside her brain. Her life signs are stable, and the Doc is confident he can find a way to revive her….but it could take several months. Normally this would be welcome news, and I'd assure my crewman that all she did was take a much-needed nap; but to an Ocampan, this could be devastating. We don't know how much Linnis's body will age in that time, with her being the first human/Ocampan hybrid in the galaxy. And she'll most likely miss the rest of her son Andrew's childhood._

* * *

"Well, what do you think?" Dr. Van Gough smiled.

Annika Hanson and Laura Kovacs approached the long mirror he'd propped up between their biobeds. For several moments, the two women marveled at their new appearances. Both looked almost completely human now, save some metallic implants sprinkling their faces and hands. Other implants remained of course, but were either internal, or covered by the silver biosuits the Doctor had designed for them.

Annika's gold hair lay loosely around her shoulders. The Doctor had created a prosthetic eye, perfectly matching her real one. The only visible implants were the one curving over her eye, the star by her ear, and the web on her hand. She'd come out of the Collective in the prime of her adulthood, and the Doctor noticed. She was beautiful.

Laura Kovacs had chosen a shorter hairstyle, her dark hair cropped in a style similar to the one Kes had worn in her younger years, leaving a thick set of bangs over one eye. A thin metallic crescent curved under that eye, an almost perfect flip of Annika's eye implant. On the opposite side of Laura's face, just along the hairline, were three black octagons, from where the tubes in her head had been removed, similar to the one Mezoti had on her forehead. On the back Laura's left hand was a full Borg wheel. She seemed perplexed by this particular implant, as if something about its shape was significant to her. Her right arm was gone after the elbow, ending in a metallic stump, where the Doctor had removed the claw.

"And what do you think of your new biosuits?" the hologram asked jovially. "I designed them to serve the purpose of your Borg armor. You'll have to wear them for at least a few months.

"I think this will look nifty under a Starfleet uniform," Laura said, turning around in front of the mirror.

Annika replied bashfully, "I suppose I'll have to put together a wardrobe of my own…unless I decide to become an official member of Starfleet."

"What's wrong with just wearing your biosuit as is?" Dr. Van Gough asked, curiously. "Bodysuits are plenty fashionable. My assistant Kes used to—"

Annika was staring at him as if he'd just suggested she walk around the ship in her underwear.

"I…think I'll figure something out. Thank you, Dr….um…Van Gough."

The Doctor bobbed his eyebrows, preparing to mutter some retort to himself, when Tom Paris caught his eye. Tom was at the back of the room, standing over the comatose body of his daughter. Since Tom was something of a relief nurse for Voyager, as well as Linnis's father, the Doctor had had no cause to reject Tom's request to be the one to monitor Linnis. The pilot had looked up at the mention of his late wife's name, and Dr. Van Gough immediately regretted bringing her up. Both men missed Kes; she'd been the Doctor's best friend, and frankly, the only person besides Linnis who he felt truly respected and understood him. But even he had had an easier time accepting her death than Tom had. Tom eventually returned is attention to Linnis, and the Doctor looked away.

Laura was staring at her hand again.

"Is something wrong with your hand, Miss Kovacs?" the Doctor asked.

She glanced up. "No. No, it's just," her voice became feint. "very ironic."

Annika stared at the Borg wheel. "I don't understand."

Laura shook her head. "It's nothing. I just—"

The doors to sickbay hissed opened. Andrew Kim entered, looking apprehensive, followed by Naomi Wildman.

"Hi Doc," Naomi's eyes darted, as if she knew she was doing something slightly socially unorthodox. "Andrew's just here to visit his mom."

The Doctor nodded. "Of course."

Annika and Laura watched the children cross the room to Linnis's bed. While Tom began speaking to his grandson, Laura leaned over and whispered to the Doctor, "Didn't he visit her this morning?"

Quietly, the Doctor explained, "Time passes differently for the Ocampa. That boy you're looking at is less than one year old. What's been a few hours to us feels more like a few days for him."

Laura's eyes bulged. Annika simply raised an eyebrow, as if she found the information mildly interesting.

"In all likelihood," the Doctor whispered gravely, "He'll be fully grown by the time his mother awakens."

"I have a niece and nephew back on Mars," Laura said, sympathetically. "_They're_ probably all grown up by now." She watched Andrew speak to his comatose mother, while Naomi and Tom watched silently. "Poor kid."

* * *

_Conn officer's log, supplemental: After Kes died, Harry and Linnis insisted I stay with them for a while, so I could get some moral support. Just when I thought I wouldn't need it anymore, Linnis winds up in a coma. Now it seems like _I'm_ the one providing the support for Harry and Andrew. Harry's doing okay, for the most part; he knows Linnis will be fine in a few months. He's just worried about what she'll miss with Andrew, and how much she might age. For all we know she'll wake up ready to retire. _

_God, the thought of my own daughter retiring—or dying of old age—while I'm still in my thirties, that's not something I ever like to think about. And Andrew…Harry and I are just hoping to god that being three-fourths human will slow down his growth enough, so he at least won't be at his Elogium when Linnis—Oh, hell, what are we gonna do when he reaches his Elogium? Linnis only got one shot at having children, just like Kes. If that's true with Andrew, what are our choices? I doubt Naomi or Mezoti will be…God I need to just stop thinking about this. How have I not gone insane yet? _

_I still haven't told my family about how Kes affected my personality. Looking back at some of my recent log entries, I feel awful about how I spoke about my own wife. Like it was _her_ fault her pheromones messed with my mind. Like it was just the pheromones that kept us married. Truth is, I loved Kes, and I still do. It's just not that fiery passion I had for B'Elanna, Rein, or my Academy crushes. It feels more like a…more like the kind of love I have for my parents and sisters. You know, they're not necessarily the people who you have the most in common with, but they're always there for you. _

_I stand by what I said before to Chakotay, though. I want the next girl I get with to be more…like me. Y'know, more wild, more argumentative, more imperfect. B'Elanna, Rein, Alice, I always liked the feisty ones the best. As luck would have it, we got two new ladies aboard Voyager this week. But I don't think Annika or Laura's really in the mood for flirting. And frankly neither am I._

* * *

"Word to the wise Tom," Harry said, when Tom exited the bedroom. "You might wanna mute the sound from the room next time you do a log entry."

Tom stopped in the middle of the living room, staring at his best friend and son-in-law like a deer in the headlights. At the moment, he and Harry were alone in Harry and Linnis's quarters. Dr. Van Gough had insisted Tom take a break from monitoring Linnis, and Harry suggested they have lunch together. Andrew, Naomi, Mezoti and Icheb had gone to have lunch with Neelix. Harry was setting the table for him and Tom, having replicated a pepperoni pizza.

"Relax," Harry said. "I didn't hear anything I didn't already know. Heads up though; I think half the men on the ship are after Annika, so you might wanna—"

"They can have her," Tom scoffed. "I'm not in a hurry to find 'true love' again, Harry."

They sat down to their pizza and ate for a few minutes in silence.

Tom suddenly remembered that he wasn't the only one going through a rough time. "Something wrong Harry?"

"It's just," Harry stared at his pizza. "What if she doesn't wake up in time, Tom? What if she grows so old, while she's still asleep, that she just—"

"_No_." Tom shook his head forcefully. "_No_. No, Doc Van Gough said she'd be out of it in a few months, and she's only three years old. If she were a full-blooded Ocampan she'd have at least six good years left, and she's half human, so…"

After a moment Harry said, "I know how you feel now, Tom. When you wanted to extend Kes's life. When it's Linnis, I'm going to want to…I'm going to want to save her."

Tom looked away and took a swig of soda, as if dismissing the whole conversation. Finally he muttered, "I just didn't wanna lose the love of my life, _again_." He set his glass down harder than he meant to. "She was a telepath, a damn powerful telepath. And B'Elanna was a _Klingon_. Why the hell did _they_ die young?"

Harry mumbled, "The candle that burns twice as bright…" Seeing Tom's expression, he said, "I'm sorry Tom. I invited you over to help you out, and instead _I'm_ using _you_ as my free counselor."

"Well, you are my son-in-law. I should be looking out for you."

After a few more moments of silence, both men decided they weren't hungry.

"Want me to stick it back in the replicator?" Tom offered, gesturing to the food.

Harry stared at the sizzling pizza. "Seems like a shame to let it go to waste. Why not take it to the Mess Hall and see if the kids want any?"

"I think they've already got enough food. Neelix took them on a picnic, remember?" (A picnic on the holodeck, of course.)

Harry thought it over, then shrugged. "Bring it to the cargo bay. It's tradition to give your new neighbors some food when you welcome them to the neighborhood."

The cargo bay was where Annika, Laura and Xin were living, as it was the only place onboard with regeneration alcoves.

"Harry," Tom laughed bitterly, "I thought I told you, I'm not gonna start moving in on the new girls—"

"I know Tom. I just think it'd do you good if you made a few friends. Get social again." Shaking his head, Harry offered, "I can take it down there if you want. Maybe Linnis's sixth sense will pick up on me taking pizza to two cute girls, and she'll wake up to give me a slap in the face."

"_You win_."

Tom headed to the replicator to get a warming container, wondering if the liberated drones even could _eat_ at this stage in their new lives.

* * *

At first, Tom thought the cargo bay was empty. There was no sign of Annika, Laura or Xin. He was about to leave when a loud clamor caught his attention, followed by a feminine voice cursing harshly. Frowning with his eyes, Tom carried the pizza around the towers of boxes and crates, until he found Laura Kovacs, knee high in mechanical components. She was sitting on the floor cross-legged, seemingly trying to fix some object he couldn't identify. It looked like a round mechanical disc, about the size of a coffee saucer. She was trying to balance the disc between her crossed legs and her right stump, working a tool at it with her one hand. She gave her head a hard shake, in an attempt to move the short brown locks out of her eyes, not having the extra hand to just shove her bangs out of her face.

Looking at the components scattered around her, Tom saw several loose tubes, claws, more discs, and bits of plating. "Is that Borg technology you're playing around with?"

Laura looked up from her work, mildly surprised to find Dr. Van Gough's assistant standing over her with a hot pizza.

"Lieutenant." She set the disk and tool down on a crate, and pushed herself up. "I, um, what can I do for you?"

"Relax. It's Tom, remember?" In Sickbay, he'd asked the new crewmembers several times to call him by his first name. "And you don't have to do anything for me. I just stopped by to drop off a pizza for my new neighbors."

Laura glanced down at the transparent container. "Looks like some of it disappeared along the way," she said humorously.

Tom laughed politely. "Well, to be honest, my son—I mean—my friend and I, we thought we'd have pizza for lunch, realized we weren't' hungry, and thought the rest would make a good gift for the new neighbors."

Laura already knew about Tom's complex family situation. He'd detected a fleeting look on her face, when he'd stumbled over calling Harry his "friend" or "son-in-law."

"Well," she said awkwardly, "Thanks." She took the pizza under her hand and metal stump, and searched for a place to put it. "Xin's off talking to your Trills, and Annika's, I don't know. She said she wanted to explore the ship. I suppose I could save it for…" she glanced down at the pizza. "Come to think of it, I _am_ pretty famished. I always lose track of time when I'm working on something."

"What _are_ you working on?" Tom asked. "With Borg technology?"

"Scrap art. Like, here." Laura set the pizza down on a crate, and rummaged through her pile of parts. She came out with a statuette, about the size of a football. "Can you tell what this is?" She offered it to him, insisting silently that he take it.

Tom squinted at the statue, turning it around in his hands gingerly. "It's Voyager!"

She'd welded the model ship together from Borg parts. A piece of Borg plating served as Voyager's elongated disk, fused to a metal tube that might once have been the armor that wrapped around a drone's wrist, or maybe the base of a Borg claw. And indeed, two fingers from a Borg claw formed Voyager's warp nacelles. A tiny blue light glowed from under the disc, serving as the model's deflector dish.

"I thought it'd make a nice thank-you present for your captain," Laura said, "But then I got a little carried away and, well," she pulled out another model. "I made this."

"Hey!" Tom glanced over the Voyager model and the new ship Laura was holding. "Is that a Maquis raider?"

She nodded. "I don't know if he'd want it, given what happened to the Maquis. It might be obnoxious. If he did though, you could have the Voyager."

"Me? No! No way. Laura, you must've spent hours on this!"

Laura blew through her lips. "Most of that took me half an hour. The bitch was getting the deflector to light up. Most of the lights went dead as soon as the Doc removed them from us."

Tom's eyes bulged. "Wait, these are," he did a double-take at the model he was holding. "These are made out of _your_ implants?"

"Ours, and your away teams. Dr. Van Gough was going to stick them allinto the replicators. I damn near had a seizure; for a scrap artists, _Borg_ scrap's like…Nirvana."

Tom searched the scrap curiously, for any more sculptures. So far, he just saw a pile of Borg pieces, though a few did look like they'd been tinkered with. "What were you working on when I came in?"

Laura glanced at the disc on the crate. "Oh, that. That's, um," she carefully picked up the disk with her only hand. "This was covering my eye when I was a drone." With the disc, she gestured to the gray prosthetic eye, half-hidden under her brunette bangs. "I was just trying to change the color it emits. See how right now, it's green? I want it to be red."

"Why red?"

She licked her lips. "It's gonna be part of the Romani flag."

"You mean the Romanian flag?" Tom set the Voyager model down on a nearby crate.

Laura looked liked she hadn't expected Tom to know what she was talking about, and gave her head a tiny shake. "No. _Romani_. As in the Romani People. You," she grimaced, "probably know us by the term 'Gypsies.'"

Tom nodded slowly. "Gypsies! You mean like, Esmeralda? Carmen? Caravans, tambourines, crystal balls, hoop earrings? That kind of Gypsies?"

"I have about as much in common with Esmeralda as your captain does with Tigerlily. But yes, you're on the right track." She cleared her throat. "Yes, my uh, my family was one of the ones that were still mobile—most of the Roma are settled now you know. I must've lived in half the nations Earth and Mars had to offer. Mars has a big Romani community. We were one of the first cultures to start moving off-world when the space-colonizing began. Anyway, that 'Gypsy life' prepared me big-time for a life with Starfleet, I think." She gazed off, nodding to herself. "I know the blacksmith trade set me on my path to engineering." She explained, "A lot of Roma are blacksmiths. You'll find a lot of us with names like Kovacs or Smith."

If it had been someone Tom knew well, like Chakotay or Harry, trying to educate him about the Romani culture, Tom would've made some off-color joke about using a crystal ball to locate a wormhole home. But with this woman he barely knew, he wouldn't dare. To keep the conversation flowing, Tom simply said, "I didn't know the G—the Romini People had a flag."

"Romani," she corrected him. "Yes, we have a flag. Top half's blue, lower half's green, and then a," she glanced at the Borg wheel on her hand. "a red wagon wheel in the middle..."

Tom could see the mystified look on her face, as if she thought fate had slapped that wheel on her hand on purpose. He thought Laura was reading way too much into a common shape for a Borg implant. Tom thought too many people on Voyager saw signs from the supernatural that any person with common sense could see were perfect coincidences. B'Elanna had been weirdly superstitious about the Klingon Day of Honor, acting like every bad thing that happened to her on that holiday was some kind of punishment from the Klingon deities. Though to be fair, that stupid superstition _had_ inspired her to confess her love to him, when the two of them wound up adrift in space. And Kes had been just as bad, thinking every sense of discomfort or déjà vu was evidence of someone somewhere committing time travel, or some new mental power trying to break through.

Before Tom had time to become pained by the memories of his lost loves, the doors to the cargo bay hissed opened, followed by a young feminine voice shouting, "No, no and no!" countered by a low, masculine, "_Who_ then?"

Tom and Laura turned around to see all four of Voyager's resident Trills enter the cargo bay, apparently in the middle of a debate.

Tom immediately recognized the former drone Shardan Xin. The joined Trill was a tall middle-aged man, with an extra row of spots running down the center of his balding head. Tom wondered if all Trill had these, and they were simply hidden by hair. The only Borg implants visible were a trail of metallic blotches running behind Xin's left eye, cutting over his spots; a cage of metal over one hand; and a flat black shape covering the area that used to be his right ear (now amputated). Under Xin's modest, baggy clothing, Tom could see the turtle-neck and sleeves of the silver biosuit the Doctor had designed for him.

The other three Trill were all Voyager crewmembers, all un-joined. The first was Lt. Mar Javin, the elderly science officer, who Tom had mistaken for a black human the first year or so aboard Voyager. (Mar's spots tended to get lost in his dark skin, unless you were up close.) The woman who'd stubbornly yelled "No!" was Ensign Tremony Kaegin, a stocky, blonde, ex-Maquis, who now served as a security officer on the lower decks. Bringing up the caboose was Crewman Jenarro Gaiya, a neurotic below-decks engineer, who was often seen in the company of Tal Celes and Billy Telfer (and often made those two look stable).

Mar Javin made a face. "It's ironic. I'd personally give _anything_ to be joined."

"_No_," Tom said, cutting into their argument. "We've been through it Mar. At your age, any joining that isn't strategically matched could kill you, and will _defiantly_ have bad consequences."

Mar grimaced. "I knew I should've gotten lost in space thirty years earlier."

Tom looked at Tremony. "Why not you Trem? You're the best candidate. You're in good health, you handle pressure well…"

"It don't want to go into it," she huffed. "It's personal. But suffice to say I'd rather get sucked into space than be joined."

All eyes inadvertently felt to Jenarro. The tall, lanky Trill shook his head, and stammered, "I-I can't be joined! I'm…just…Jenarro Gaiya! I scrub the ship's _lavatories_ for crying out loud! I'm, I'm nobody!"

"That might be an advantage," Mar pointed out. "If you're the one with the least baggage, you'd suffer the least when joined."

"He has a point," Tom said.

"Look," Shardan Xin growled. "I don't care _who_ does it, just as long as you three decide _something_. I realize it _is_ a bit of an invasion of privacy. But given that this is my _lives_ we're talking about—and how much your crew might benefit from my _ten lifetimes_ of knowledge, while you're lost out here—I don't think my request is _too_ out of line."

Laura shrugged. "He has a point."

The three Voyager Trills resumed their argument, while Xin squinted his eyes shut and shook his head.

"I need to regenerate!" Xin finally announced, and marched over to the alcoves.

"Okay," Laura said, suddenly taking on a tone of authority. "Visiting hours are over, you can argue in the hallway!"

After Laura finished shooing the Trill out of the cargo bay, Tom gave her a friendly nod. "I'll get out of your way. Enjoy the pizza."

"Hang on Tom, I didn't mean you! I don't think I can eat that pizza by myself."

"Are you asking me to join you?"

"If you want."

_This is not a date._ Tom told himself. "Okay."

Fortunately 24th century containers ensured the food stayed as fresh as when it was placed inside. If this had been Tom's beloved 20th century, the pizza would no doubt have been lukewarm by now. Tom and Laura chatted as they ate, getting to know each other, without going into anything too personal. For the first few minutes Tom feared waking Xin from his regeneration cycle, but it became clear that he was stone cold unconscious, and would remain so until the cycle ended.

"I think I understand how it feels now, to be a joined Trill now," Laura said, finishing off her last slice of pepperoni.

"How so?" Tom asked, still digging in.

"Living multiple lives. Having memories that aren't yours. Sharing a body, or a mind, with someone else. I don't blame those younger two for not wanting it."

Tom shifted where he sat on the floor. "Must've been fun, in Unimatrix Zero. Sounds like an entire life on the holodeck."

Laura smiled, and nodded. "It was like a great dream that lasted twelve years. But given what I missed out on I'm not sure it's worth it."

Tom chewed his crust slowly. "I understand more than you realize."

* * *

**A/N: Unsure when the next chapter will be up. The ones I posted this week had been sitting around half-written on my computer for ages, so I really just had to fix them up. **

**The five crewmen killed by the Borg are an inside joke no one reading this will get, unless you've seen "Welcome Back, Kotter." Since the real "Voyager" writers once killed off the cast of "The West Wing" in an episode, there's no reason I can't wipe out the Sweathogs. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager."**

* * *

Laura knew it was the wrong thing to do, but she was positive Tom wouldn't mind. While it was true that she'd only known him for a month and a half now, and that they'd only been dating for half that time, she'd gotten to know him well enough to learn that Tom probably wouldn't take something like this personally. She just _had_ to know. She had to know what was in that holo-program.

"It's nothing," Tom had said when she'd tried asking him. "It's just some old project I started, years ago. I've lost interest in it." He didn't like talking about, it for some reason.

Once her shift in Engineering had ended, she'd headed straight for the holodeck. She walked briskly down the hall, realizing for the first time that she felt completely at home on Voyager. She still stood out in some ways, with her Borg implants, and that metallic silver biosuit showing underneath her gold engineering uniform (in place of the usual gray material the other crewmembers wore). But these things no more made her an oddity than Neelix's Talaxian features, the captain's tattoo.

Laura also realized that she'd completely forgotten about her arm. The Doctor had designed a holographic arm to replace the one the Borg had taken. It projected from a holo-emitter installed into the Borg covering over her stump. The arm was programmed in solid form, so Laura could pick up objects and type at PADDs and consoles, but could be switched to transparent mode if she wanted to stick her hand through a solid object (for whatever reason). Swinging her arms as she walked, she almost couldn't even tell which arm was the fake one, because the weight was so perfectly programmed.

She finally reached the holodeck, and ordered, "Computer, activate Program Paris-Five-Alpha."

The holodeck doors hissed opened, revealing a black-and-white world. She was looking at a rocky terrain, with a castle of sorts off in the distance. The rocks looked deliberately artificial, and the castle reminded her of something from an old 20th Century science fiction film. She stepped inside, and watched in amazement as her hands went straight from beige to gray, as if being _dipped_ into the black-and-white universe.

From behind one cardboard boulder, a boxy robot came waddling forward, bellowing in a mechanical voice, "In-tru-der! In-tru-der! Prepare to be destroyed!"

Laura couldn't resist a weak laugh.

Another figure soon joined the robot. It was a tall villainous looking man, an obvious take-off on classic bad guys like Ming the Merciless, and the wicked sorcerers from the old animated films Laura had watched as a child. His costume seemed incomplete, consisting of a long shinning robe absent of designs or decorations. The man fixed his eyes on Laura, pointed dramatically, and opened his mouth. No sound came out. The man shouted at her silently, with dramatic expressions and gestures. It seemed like Tom had planned a lot for this character, but obviously he hadn't finished writing him.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Laura turned to see Tom stepping in from the hall. It was quite a sight, watching his dirty-blonde hair and red uniform switch to gray as soon as he entered the program.

"I'm sorry Tom," Laura shook her head apologetically. "I couldn't resist."

"It's alright," Tom said. "Wow, it's been so long since I've even looked at this program."

"It's fantastic!" Laura said. "I used to turn up my nose at monochrome programs. But I think I'm begging to like it." Looking around the gray canyons, she asked, "What made you scrap the project, if you don't mind my asking?"

"The, uh, 'Year of Hell,' as we all so affectionately call it." Tom grimaced. "I…was a little distracted that year. After things calmed down again, I didn't want to be reminded of it." Laura opened her mouth to apologize but he cut her off. "Before you apologize, don't. I'm glad to be here again. It feels so… nostalgic."

Laura looked down awkwardly, then resumed gazing around the program. "What's it called?"

Tom shrugged. "I told you yesterday, I never picked out a name."

"Not even a working title?"

"Well," Tom looked down at the phony rock ground. "I think, the last time I was working on this, I was debating between two names." He blinked, clearly embarrassed by how corny they'd sound. "Either 'Buck Starkiller,' or 'Captain Proton.'"

Larua's brunette eyebrows turned up. "_Starkiller_?"

"Inside joke. You have to be a _sci-fi_ film-history geek to really get it."

Tom knew by now that he and Laura were both "film history geeks." But while Tom's interests leaned towards sci-fi serials and crime dramas, Laura was more inclined towards fantasy and animation.

"I think I like 'Captain Proton,'" Laura offered. "Sounds like a name for a real hero. Someone who'd," she shrugged, staring at the castle. "swing in from a space ship to rescue a moon princess, from a heard of Klingon blood walkers."

Tom laughed. "Is there any planet whose mythology you _don't_ know?"

She gave it some thought. "I've never been able to find many fantasy creatures in Vulcan mythology. And I'm not too keen on Tarkillian creatures, they all seem to be your typical run-of-the-mill monsters and demons. Nothing really creative. But…" she came back around to the villain and the robot, who were now engaging in a half-silent argument. "…_this_ character reminds me of a _Ganara demon_, from Bolian mythology. The legend is that if you eat the ganara fruit right after a relative has died, a man will emerge from the fruit's core and offer you two wishes. One wish will solve all your problems and the but the other one always comes back to bite you. For some reason, the art always depicts the demon as being really tall and slim, with robes just like that. Maybe you could work that mythology into your story. Have this guy offer people bad deals or something..." she shrugged again. "I don't know, it's just an idea."

"Like a genie," Tom said. "Yeah, Chaotica does have a genie look about him."

"_Chaotica_?"

"That's his name. Dr. Chaotica."

Laura shook her head. "Oh Tom, you gotta change that!"

"Like hell I will!" Tom laughed. "It's a 1930s serial, it's supposed to be cheesy. Speaking of serials," Tom stepped closer to Laura, and put his arms around her. "I was thinking we could have an evening at the cabin tonight."

Laura's face lit up. "I love your cabin!"

"The cabin" was a program that Tom and Kes had created, shortly after their marriage. Tom had programmed it as a family getaway, with something for everyone. There was a garden filled with Ocampan fruits and flowers for Kes to tend; a lake where Tom had taught his wife, daughter and grandson how to swim and canoe; and a little 1950s-styled TV set inside the house, where Tom would show family members old TV programs from the 20th century. Kes and Tom never really shared interest in the soap operas and crime shows they respectively loved, but they both could enjoy a good drama or cartoon. Linnis had grown up watching "Looney Tunes," mafia movies, and monster flicks with her father.

"Yeah," Tom said. "Let's go to the cabin. We can finish talking about Captain Proton over a cookout."

Tom ordered the computer to change the program, and the black and white planet phased out into a colorful forest. Atop a small hill sat the little red cabin. The house could easily have been something out of the early twentieth or even nineteenth century; the only modern additions that could be seen from outside were the automatic door and un-segmented windows.

"So," Tom said as they stepped inside the little house. "I'm thinking we can go for a swim, eat dinner around a campfire, and then maybe a movie?"

Laura smiled at the cute little TV set. "What kind of movie?"

"Whatever you're in the mood for. Just not one of those Disney cartoons, please. I could never get into those."

"I have a feeling women are more inclined to Disney," Laura said.

"Probably. Kes and Linnis both loved watching the princess movies together. Andrew never got into Disney too much, although he did like Robin Hood and 101 Dalmatians a lot, 'till he…" Tom's blue eyes faltered. "Till he grew out of it."

Andrew had grown out of cartoons less than three months earlier.

"I can't believe he's a teenager now," Tom said quietly. "He's probably fifteen in human years. What's Linnis gonna say when she wakes up?"

A month and a half after the Unimatrix Zero incident, Linnis Paris was still unconscious in Sickbay. If it had been anyone else in the crew—or hell, if it had been Linnis _before_ Andrew was born—feelings wouldn't be half as tense. With all the bizarre injuries a Starfleet officer suffered, spending a few months in a coma was hardly a big deal. If it were Vorik, or Neelix, or one of the Delaney sisters, everyone would react as if they were simply on leave for a while. But with Linnis asleep, every day had the family and the entire crew on edge, as they watched Andrew age rapidly while his mother slept.

"At least he hasn't hit his eulogium yet," Laura pointed out, hoping to help.

"If he _ever_ has one," Tom added. "The Doc still doesn't know how puberty's gonna play out for Andrew. I guess I should be relieved he at least has his dad around."

Hoping to change the subject, Laura said, "I didn't bring my swimsuit." She sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "Do you think we could just have the holodeck cook one up, holographic costume and all that?"

On the holodeck, one could have a "costume" built into the program, essentially a holographic illusion wrapped around their body. Most people however chose to replicate their own _real_ costumes, for the sake of authenticity.

"That could be dangerous," Tom said coyly, wrapping his arms around her again. "What if Voyager gets blasted by hostile aliens, and the power goes off? Our _costumes_ could just disappear."

"Then I guess we shouldn't even bother with them," Laura grinned mischievously.

"Just hope Harry and Andrew don't decide to come in and join us."

"We can always lock the holodeck doors."

"_Dr. Van Gough to Lt. Paris!_"

Tom's tone instantly changed. This was possibly the only time when Tom wouldn't mind having a romantic evening interrupted by the Doctor. "I'm here Doc."

"Linnis is awake. Get your entire family down here. I'll call the captain."

"I'll be right down!"

As Tom made for the door, Laura stood where she was, fiddling with the sleeve of her uniform. "I'll head back to the Cargo Bay," she finally said.

Tom paused to look at her.

"It'd probably be better," Laura said. "If she…got to know me when she was ready."

Tom looked away, as he considered the situation. He'd never had to tell his daughter that he was seeing someone. In fact, most of the crew didn't know about Tom and Laura yet. A lot of people would no doubt consider their relationship to be in poor taste; Tom dating again less than two months after his wife's death, and with his daughter in a coma. But Tom and Laura had both needed it. They were both lonely, and both had a lot of problems they wanted to forget about fast, and without each other they would have gone insane. He hoped that Linnis's slowed sense of time would make it seem less awful to her.

Tom nodded. "Yeah, yeah okay. I'm sorry for wrecking our date Laura."

"No Tom! She's your daughter! Go. _Now!_"

* * *

Linnis slowly sat up in the bed, and blinked widely, trying to make sure nothing was wrong with her eyes. She recognized her father, and her husband Harry. But her son Andrew looked warped. Stretched. He was almost as tall as Harry, and is face looked more masculine. She realized he was a _teenager_.

"Andrew?" she breathed.

"Mom," Andrew said, in a noticeably deeper voice than he'd had the last time they'd spoken.

After a long, tight hug, Linnis said with a cracking voice, "Oh Andrew, you're all grown up!"

"I'm only seven months old," Andrew said sheepishly. "Well, seven and a half."

The doors hissed opened, and Captain Chakotay joined them around the bed.

"Captain!"

Linnis threw off the blanket and moved around, ready to jump off the bed. But Chakotay motioned for her to remain on the bed.

"At ease, Nurse."

"Captain," Linnis said urgently. "I've just remembered something important. I spoke with aliens. Aliens that can defeat the Borg."

Chakotay's face froze.

Tom gave his daughter a look. "You were dreaming, Linnis."

Linnis chewed her lip with frustration. "_Look_. You all must remember when the Borg were at war with that alien race a few years back, when I was a baby. You all told me enough times, that was the only way we made it this far without getting assimilated. The Borg were too busy fighting some race, from another dimension. That's what you told me, right?"

The Doctor answered for everyone, "That's correct Linnis."

"I chose not to get us involved," Chakotay said sternly, "And I'm still standing by that decision."

"But they can help us!" Linnis urged. "They told me—"

"Slow down a little," Harry cut in. "What do you mean, you 'talked' to them? You mean they came to you, in a dream?"

"Yes! No. I wasn't in a dream… but I wasn't in _their_ world either. I can't describe it. I can just tell you that we were connected, somehow. No," she corrected herself, "not 'somehow,' they _told_ me how! It was," Linnis's hazel eyes squinted. "They said that the Borg technology in my brain, the neural transceiver, combined with my telepathy, was able to project my thoughts farther than any being they'd seen yet. They wanted to know if I was with the Borg. I told them I wasn't." She brought her hands up to examine them, then felt her face. "I don't have any Borg technology left inside me?"

"No," the Doctor said. "I removed it while you were unconscious. Including the transceiver."

"That must be how I got stuck," Linnis spoke slowly, her face distant. "Yes. I…was stretched from my body, by that transceiver and my telepathy…the aliens got a hold of me…then the transceiver is gone, and I'm suddenly left in their clutches. They spent forever trying to help me get back home. Trying to place my consciousness back into my body."

"Wait a minute," Tom glanced at the Doctor, then back at Linnis. "Are you saying the reason you were 'out of your body' this whole time is because the Doc took that transceiver out of your brain? So you had no way to get back?"

Linnis's eyes met the Doctor's. "It's not your fault Doctor. There's no way you could possibly have known."

"Even if I had," the Doctor said, "That Borg technology was harmful to your body, especially the parts in your brain. If I'd left it inside any of you for too long, you might have become full drones."

Tom folded his arms. "So it took these aliens a month to figure out how to send you back home?"

"Well they had to _locate_ Voyager, and I presume you were moving." Linnis shook her head. "I didn't know. I didn't know how much time was passing. There _was_ no time, there. I just…" She looked at Andrew again, and closed her eyes. "Well, enough about me." She began rubbing one eye. "What did I miss here, besides Andrew's growth spurt?"

Tom and Harry exchanged a glance.

Harry finally said, "A bit."

* * *

Linnis lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Andrew was fast asleep in his bedroom. Harry was changing into his pajamas.

"I'm gone for one month, and look what I miss," Linnis said to the ceiling. "Andrew's a teenager. Two Borg drones have joined the crew. And Jenarro Gaiya is now Jenarro Xin," she brought her hand up to her forehead.

"He was supposed to have six months," Harry said. "Shardan Xin, I mean. The original host who we rescued from Unimatrix Zero. If he hadn't been regenerating right when that Hirogen ship attacked us…"

"Must've been a lot happening at once." Linnis said.

"The Trills had to make a split-second decision. None of us expected Jenarro to get the symbiont. But it wasn't safe for Mar, and no one was gonna force that on Tremony, with her being so against it."

"He's so different now." Linnis mused. "I mean I admit, I never knew Jenarro all that well. But he's _nothing_ like that stuttering nerd we used to know. Billy says he doesn't even hang out with him or Tal anymore. He spends more time with older people, like Mar and Lt. Jackson and Tuvok…" Linnis rolled onto her side, facing Harry, who was just climbing into bed. "What's wrong with Tuvok anyway?"

Harry didn't bother to ask how Linnis knew something was wrong with Tuvok. His half-telepath wife usually caught on to secrets before anyone else onboard.

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "Neither Chakotay or the Doctor will tell me. They say it's a personal matter for Tuvok. If you ask me though, I don't think he's sick in the sense that he has the Terillian flue. I think it's something up here," he tapped his temple.

Linnis's hazel eyes drifted in thought. "You always _did_ tell me Commander Tuvok went crazy a lot." She shook her head. "That was an awful thing to say."

"Awful but true." Harry sighed, shutting the dresser drawer. "Seven years of getting possessed by aliens and botched mind-melds would have a bad effect on anyone. Never mind a Vulcan. I think this might wind up being one of our more hectic years on Voyager."

After a pause, Linnis said, "At least Dad's happy."

Harry eyed her. "What do you mean?"

Linnis looked over her shoulder to face him. "I know he's seeing someone." She rolled back over. "I won't ask who. But I can tell. I could sense it, back in Sickbay. That he has a partner."

Harry had learned not to even bother asking how Linnis "sensed" these things. She'd tried and failed enough times to explain it to him. It wasn't like a Betazoid, who picked up on others' emotions. Ocampans were straight-up telepaths, who could "hear" or "see" people's direct thoughts (under the right circumstances). Linnis, being only half Ocampan, "heard" and "saw" those thoughts in a "blurred, muffled" sense.

"He didn't plan it," Harry said carefully. "I think they're just both _really_ lonely right now."

"It's _fine_ Harry," Linnis said. "I'm happy for him. It's fine."

She didn't sound "fine."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I don't own "Voyager."**

* * *

"_Senior officers to the bridge!_"

Tom wasn't sure why Chakotay was giving that order, because as far as he could tell, everyone _was_ on the bridge. _Tom_ certainly was. He was sitting at the helm, like always. Spinning in his chair, he saw Harry at ops as usual. Captain Chakotay and Commander Tuvok were both in their command chairs. Chakotay was speaking to Tuvok, even as his own voice bellowed the order over him. How many Chakotays were there aboard Voyager? Was this a dream? Tom checked the bridge for anything out of the ordinary. Chakotay and Tuvok were there, Harry was at ops, Tuvok was at tactical…wait a minute, there weren't supposed to be _two_ Tuvoks—

"_Tom!_" Laura was shaking him awake.

"Yeah!" Tom shot up in the bed. "Yeah, I'm coming!"

They were in Tom's quarters. This was the second time he and Laura had—what was the polite, Starfleet phrase—_been intimate_. The first time, they'd done it on the holodeck, at a hotel in 1920s New York. But after doing the deed _that_ time, they _hadn't_ just gone to sleep; they couldn't, due to Laura's "condition." Tom had taken her home like a gentleman, as if it were any ordinary date. He couldn't remember how he'd wound up falling asleep this time. Or, more importantly, why Laura hadn't gone home to regenerate.

"Laura," Tom said, sliding out of bed. "I hope you're not missing your regeneration cycle to watch me sleep."

"I have tomorrow off," she reminded him. "I was just laying here thinking. Trying to come up with ideas for 'Captain Proton.'"

A week ago, she'd discovered his forgotten project. As of last tonight, they'd agreed to finish the holo-program, together.

As Tom changed into his uniform, he saw Laura slipping back into her silver biosuit. For a moment, he paused to look at her bare back. The silver web that ran down her spine, the elongated Borg wheel (or "Borg oval" as he called it) on her shoulder blade. Laura and Annika wouldn't die if they took their suits off for a short while; but like a 20th century back-brace, they had to wear them for the specified number of hours each day, until their bodies finished healing from years as drones.

"You headed home?" Tom asked.

"No," Laura tossed on her black and gold jacket. "I'm headed to Engineering. I know I'm not a senior officer. But whatever's going on, I don't want to miss it."

Chakotay's voice came on once again. "_Senior officers, to the bridge_."

Tom muttered, "I heard you the first time, you stupid Indian."

Laura bit her lip in silent laughter.

"_Tom, you do realize that the com channel is opened when I say 'senior officers to the bridge._'"

Tom and Laura both froze. Laura's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"What else did you hear, Captain?" Tom asked nervously.

"_Nothing important. Just get down here Tom, please_." Chakotay sounded very tired.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

* * *

Tom was relieved to see only one Tuvok on the bridge, sitting in the first officer's chair. The Vulcan held his compare perfectly; no one would suspect he was on the bridge half as often as usual these days, and in Sickbay _twice_ as often. Neelix was at tactical, and Harry was at communications. Amelia Jenkins, the nightshift pilot, was facing the turbolift, waiting for Tom to relief her.

Behind the two command chairs, at a tiny consol attached to the railing, stood Jenarro Xin. Since becoming joined, Jenarro had transformed overnight into an invaluable advisor for the Captain, with several lifetimes _and_ the entire Collective's knowledge at his aid, and was now a regular bridge member. It was remarkable, how Jenarro looked the same as always, yet completely different. He was still a lanky, pale young man, with flaming red hair that seemed to resist hair brushes, and freckles that rivaled his Trill spots. But that lanky body didn't shift or fidget as it once had, and those pale green eyes were fixed and alert. He now said and did everything with the wisdom of a centuries-old Trill and the control of a Borg drone (despite having no implants or nanoprobes anywhere in his body).

"What've we got?" Tom asked, taking his seat.

"A distress call," Chakotay answered. "A shuttle, or small ship, crashed on that asteroid."

He fixed his eyes on the view screen, which displayed a magnified image of a shuttle crashed on the asteroid. The asteroid was one of the larger ones, complete with an atmosphere and a few sparse plants. The ship was clearly damaged, bur in-tact. Tom couldn't place the origin of the ship's sharp, dagger-like design, and assumed it was just another new humanoid species.

"I'm picking up two life signs," Harry confirmed from his station. "Hang on, I think I'm getting a third. It's primitive—no, no wait it's not primitive, it's _fetal_."

Chakotay turned sharply in his chair. "A pregnant woman?"

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "Since we do not know the nature of this species, we cannot assume that the pregnant individual is female."

Tom loved it when Tuvok was hilarious without trying. "A seashores species maybe?"

"No," Harry's eyes widened at the readings. "No it's not a seahorse. Captain, I don't know if I'm reading this correctly. But I seem to be getting a combination of Human and Klingon life signs."

Now it was Tom's turn to look at Harry in disbelief. Harry grimaced, and quickly looked away from Tom. He clearly regretted saying anything that reminded Tom of B'Elanna.

"That vessel _is_ Klingon, sir," Xin confirmed. "A scout ship by the looks of it."

The ship didn't have the "Bird of Prey" design that one normally associated with Klingon vessels, but it's jagged, knife -like appearance was believably Klingon.

Harry continued, "I can't beam any of them out Sir. The shuttle's shields are still up."

"Can you contact them?" Chakotay asked.

Harry made several attempts to hail the vessel, and failed.

"I'll take a team." Chakotay rose from his chair. "You have the bridge, Tuvok."

Tom turned hopefully in his seat. "You'll need a pilot—"

"_No_, Tom." Chakotay said, more forcefully than he meant to. "Getting there will be the easy part. What I _will_ need is the Doctor. Chakotay to Sickbay: Doc, I'm taking an away team down to that asteroid. Can you join us?"

"Affirmative Captain. I'll leave Nurse Linnis in charge of Sickbay."

"Pardon me sir," Xin's prim-and-proper manner clashed with Jenarro's youthful voice. "But if the ship's shields are blocking transport, how do you expect to get _inside_?"

"That," Chakotay said, "will be the tricky part."

* * *

The away team consisted of Chakotay, Dr. Van Gough, Lt. Neelix, Lt. Vorik, Ensign Laura Kovacs, and Crewman Annika Hanson. Neelix, Chakotay had brought for security purposes. (The Talaxian wasn't his first choice in a covert mission, like that one to the Borg cube; but on a regular ground mission, Neelix's military training always served him well). Chief Engineer Vorik and the two former drones had come to help devise a way into the locked Klingon ship.

"Do you think your Borg force-fields can cut through that Klingon shield?" Neelix asked Vorik, as they approached the Klingon ship.

"We shall see," the Vulcan replied coolly.

"So what exactly have you done?" Neelix asked. "You've programmed Laura and Annika to cut through this shield, like full Borg drones?"

"In essence." Vorik replied.

Dr. Van Gough provided some detail. "Laura and Annika are normally just as susceptible to force fields as any of us, since a severed drone's nanoprobes no longer have the energy to create that force throughout the drone's body that allows it to pass through force fields. What I've done is increased the number of nanoprobes in Laura and Annika's bodies, allowing them to—hopefully—pass through this force field. As soon as this mission is over however I'll be returning them to their usual state, since the long term effects could be…undesirable."

Chakotay watched the two former drones approach the Klingon ship with caution. He didn't like the idea of sending them into that ship without a security guards or a doctor. The plan was for them to disable the Klingon ship's shielding from the inside, so the rest of the team could get in. Laura walked towards the ship with a cool trained confidence, provided no doubt by her years of experience with Starfleet. Annika was clearly trying to mimic that, but her apprehension was showing.

Chakotay caught himself staring at Annika's figure, visible even in that green science uniform. Annika still wore the silver biosuit underneath. Her gold hair was swept back into a practical but elegant ponytail, fully displaying the Borg wheel near her right ear. He liked the implants, he decided. They brought her natural features out to their fullest.

He put a lid on his thoughts, as the two women reached the ship. Laura and Annika exchanged a glance, before walking on. They strode easily through the Klingon force field, with a quick green hum. It had worked. They turned back to exchange a nod with the captain. Annika locked eyes with Chakotay just a moment longer than necessary, before proceeding onward. All entrances to the ship were locked or fused shut. They'd have to force their way in. They found a spot on the oddly-shaped ship that wasn't touching the ground, and together, burned a hole in it with their phasers. Annika, the younger and apparently more limber of the two, climbed up first, then helped Laura up into the ship.

After several tense minutes, Laura's voice finally came over the comm. "_Kovacs to Chaktoay._ _We've found the pregnant woman. She and the baby are both in stable condition. I'd say she's about nine-months pregnant—at least measuring in human months. Our scans say she's half Klingon." _

"Did you say half-Klingon?" Chakotay repeated.

"_Yes sir._"

Despite being in the Delta Quadrant, Voyager _had_ managed to run into two Ferengi, one Romulan, and a few humans, due to various space anomalies. So finding a ship containing humans and Klingons had been a surprise for Chakotay, but not a major shock. A Klingon-human hybrid on the other hand, those were rare even in the Alpha Quadrant.

_Could it be? _

Enough Starfleet officers had returned from the dead, or met parallel universe counterparts, that it wasn't completely out of the question. But if it _was_…

"Is she awake?" Chakotay asked.

"_Negative. She's unconscious_."

"Laura," Chakotay said. "This may seem like an odd question. But can you tell me what she looks like?"

Dr. Van Gough shot the captain an odd look. Vorik and Neelix were also staring.

After a pause, Laura replied, "_She looks…quite a bit like B'Elanna Torres."_

The Doctor's face contorted in confusion. Neelix also looked lost. Vorik showed as much surprise as the Vulcan emotional rage allowed.

Chakotay recalled how Laura and Annika had "met" B'Elanna in Unimatrix Zero. No doubt they'd also found pictures of her in the database, and heard stories from Tom.

Annika added, _"But this woman looks a bit older. And her hair's different. She could be a relative…."_

"Describe her to me." Chakotay ordered.

Laura replied. "_She's uh, about five feet tall, with shoulder-length brown hair. Forehead ridges are present but less pronounced….you want me to check for Klingon teeth_?"

"What's she wearing?" Chakotay asked. "Is she wearing a—a uniform of any kind?"

"_No Sir, she's in a red top and pants…sleeping wear possibly._"

"_Captain," _Annika said urgently. "_We still haven't located the other Klingon. And we still can't get the shielding down, or the transporters up." _

Chakotay sighed inwardly. Without taking down that shield, there was no way to get that injured woman and her unborn child out of there. Nor to get the Doctor in.

"_Captain_," the Doctor said, almost whispering. "You don't actually think—?"

"Not now Doc," Chakotay said. "Let's focus on getting into that shuttle."

Dr. Van Gough eyed the Klingon ship, then muttered, "It's a shame my mobile emitter can't become transparent with the rest of me. Otherwise I'd be through that shield and at my patient's side before you could say 'irony.'"

This gave Chakotay an idea. "Kovacs, Hanson, would it help for you to just focus on getting the _Doctor_ in there?"

"_Possibly_," Laura replied. "_But without transporters we can't get his mobile emitter through the shield. We could try downloading him into this ship, but I doubt his program is compatible. I don't think this ship is even equipped with holo-emitters._"

"_It's not,_" Annika confirmed. "_We can't download Dr. Van Gough here, there's nothing to download him _into_. Wait! Wait a minute. What if we download him into _our_ shuttle craft?"_

There was a pause, before Laura apparently caught on. "_Yes! And then he'll be able to walk through the shield, because he won't have to take the mobile emitter with him!" _

"Vorik," Chakotay began.

"I'll get started Sir," the Vulcan replied before Chakotay even give the order.

"Wait, what about my medical kit?" The doctor lifted his kit for emphasis. "_It's_ not holographic." The hologram rolled his eyes. "I can't believe _I _forgot about that."

Chakotay cursed. "Vorik, I don't suppose Kovacs or Hanson could bring that kit through?"

"Why not?" Neelix asked. "They brought the clothing on their backs, and the phasers on their belts, didn't they?"

Vorik explained, "A Borg drones' shielding is comparable to a thin cloud around its body. Items small enough and close enough may be brought through the shield."

From the other line, Annika proposed, "Let's get down there and put the supplies the Doctor needs on our belts, or in our pockets. Hell I could probably stick something in my sock."

Annika and Laura's way of wording things was very similar, Chakotay thought. But then again, they'd spent ten years in Unimatrix Zero together. It made some sense.

Laura stayed with the unconscious Klingon-Human hybrid, while Annika came back down for the Doctor's medical supplies. Then, with a medical tricorder and a dermal regenerator on her belt, and half a dozen other medical supplies scattered around her body via pockets, socks, and the crevice created by her belted shirt and biosuit, she returned into the Klingon ship. The Doctor followed, having been programmed into transparent form, and passing through the force field like a ghost. Annika tried to help him up into the hole, but his hand passed right through hers.

"One moment," Vorik said, hurrying back into the shuttle.

A moment later, the Doctor flickered back into solid form, and followed Annika up into the Klingon ship.

"As soon as you treat that woman," Chakotay said over the comm., "I want you to find the other Klingon."

The team members acknowledged the order.

After several moments, the Doctor's urgent voice came over the comm. "_Van Gough to Chakotay!_"

"What is it Doctor?"

"_The pregnant woman!_"

"Is she alright?"

"_She's fine,_" the Doctor said. "_But I've no idea how. Captain, it _is_ B'Elanna Torres! Or at least that's what my tricorder is telling me! She looks a bit different than I remember, but genetically it _is_ her, and she is recognizable. B'Elanna didn't have an identical twin she failed to mention to me, did she?_"

"No." Chakotay's mind raced in a thousand different directions. "Wake her up!" he said finally. "If anyone can figure out how to shut down that ship's shields B'Elanna can!"

"_I'll inject a hypospray that should bring her back to consciousness, once I'm certain it's safe._" There came a pause, as the Doctor presumably scanned her.

In the background, Laura's quiet voiced asked with surprising calm, "_B'Elanna Torres…that's…the former chief engineer of Voyager?_"

Oh hell, Chakotay thought. This was going to make things very awkward for Tom and Laura.

"_Captain_," the Doctor said. "_I've got _more_ surprising news. The child she's carrying belongs to Lt. Paris." _

Chakotay could only imagine the look on Laura's face. Down here, even Vorik's eyes were wide with shock. Neelix on the other had was just squinting in bafflement.

Suddenly, a deep male voice demanded, "_Who are you? How did you get in here?" _

The Doctor calmly replied, "_I'm Dr. Van Gough of the Federation starship Voyager. We're responding to your distress call_."

"_How did you get through my shields?_"

"_It took a lot of creative effort. I'll be glad to give you the full story, perhaps while I treat that head injury of yours. I don't know whether you've noticed or not, but you're bleeding rather ba—_"

"_Voyager!_" the Klingon interrupted. "_I might have known I should run into you here." _

"_You…know us?" _the Doctor asked.

"Doctor," Chakotay cut in. "Let me speak with him, if you don't mind."

"_Not at all Captain_."

Chakotay never liked speaking to someone through a third party's com badge. But he was short on options at the moment.

"This is Captain Chakotay of the Federation starship Voyager. I apologize for not being able to greet you in person. Perhaps if you lowered your shields we can have a proper introduction."

"_Captain…Chakotay?" _This seemed to puzzle the Klingon. But he quickly cut off his own musings, and added, "_I don't have time to socialize, Captain_. _I must repair my ship and resume my course."_

"Hold on a minute," Chakotay said. "Your ship happens to contain one of my crewmembers!"

"_If you're referring to Lt. Torres, she is _not_ your crewmember._

The bizarreness of the situation gave Chakotay an uncharacteristic loss of patience. "Look, I don't know how you know B'Elanna, or my ship, or where you _found_ her, but she's _definitely_ my crewmember! Do you think a captain doesn't know his own—"

"_Scan her body for tachyons, chronotrons and dark matter." _

Chakotay froze for a moment, then hissed, "_What_?"

"_Not you, you're hologram doctor!_"

Dr. Van Gough's voice came back on, timidly. "_Captain_…?"

"Do it," Chakotay ordered, his eyes darting in confusion.

After a moment, the Doctor exclaimed, "…_I'm picking up all of those!_"

The Klingon sneered, "_How can she be a member of your crew, if she isn't even a member of your universe?_"

* * *

**A/N: This fic fudges the timeline, just barely. According to Memory Alpha, Kes's death in the "Before and After" timeline co-coincided with the "real universe" events of the film "Nemesis" …meaning that the real Voyager should be home already, when this fic is taking place. That doesn't work for this story though, so I'm fudging the years just slightly. Since that "fact" about the years is never confirmed onscreen (except perhaps through very careful observations of stated stardates), it can be excused as a **_**very**_** minor plot-hole. And since the "Star Trek" saga is packed with blatant plot holes, I like to think that this one is excusable. **

**Okay, I have to acknowledge the You Tube video I totally ripped a line from. ("She's alive, but I don't know how! It's _!") It's a brilliant fan trailer made for TNG, that features Tasha Yar returning from the dead. Data says basically that same line. I copied it here because I couldn't resist. Consider it a homage, rather than copyright. (That's my excuse and I'm sticking with it.) **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: There are parallels between this chapter, and Cojack's "Fault of the Stewards" story. But I had this plot point in mind for months, long before I read her story. Cojack still gets credit for doing it first; I just don't want to be accused of conscious rip-off. **

**I don't own "Voyager."**

* * *

"Why'd this have to happen now?" Tom lamented, as he and Harry hurried down to Sickbay. "_One week_ after Linnis wakes up. I haven't even told her about Laura yet. Now she's in Sickbay treating my old girlfriend, who's pregnant with my love-child."

Harry threw Tom a look. "We just survived a twenty-minute battle with a crazed Klingon, and _that's_ what you're concerned about?"

"_Chh_. We get into phaser fights all the time, Harry. Besides, it was a half-dead ship with _one_ Klingon at the controls. It's _not_ every day your old flame comes back from the grave."

"I hear it happened to Captain Kirk once or twice," Harry offered, as they stepped into the turo lift. "Look Tom, I won't pretend this is anywhere near as hard on me as it is on you. But B'Elanna was my friend. You're not the only one experiencing some…mixed feelings right now."

Tom breathed out a long sigh. "Of all the ships in all the universes in all the multiverse…"

Harry gave Tom a look.

Tom returned it. "You _think_ it's just a cheesy movie line, till it actually happens to you."

They stepped out of the turbo lift just as Amelia Jenkins was stepping in, on her way to reclaim her seat at the helm. "What'd I miss?" the blonde nightshift pilot asked.

Tom stopped in the doorway of the turbo lift. "You want the long version or the short version?"

"Well I'm kind of in a hurry so, short?"

Tom replied irritably, "That ship on the asteroid was a Klingon vessel."

"_Klingon_?"

"And apparently it contained a couple visitors, from a parallel universe. One of them's B'Elanna."

Jenkins' blue eyes slowly widened in grim shock. "You mean B'Elanna, as in…"

"B'Elanna Torres. Our old chief engineer." Tom said flatly. Jenkins knew what Tom and B'Elanna's relationship had been. "Her companion was in a hurry to get somewhere, so Chakotay had to do some negotiating to get him to lower his shields and let us beam them aboard. I used the term 'negotiating' somewhat loosely, since these 'negotiations' involved a short exchange of energy blasts. Hanson and L—Kovacs are in Sickbay, getting treated for broken bones and bite marks."

Jenkins dipped her blonde head in a slow nod. "And…I assume the Klingon's there too?"

"Both of them." Tom turned to leave then added, "Oh, and B'Elanna's pregnant. By me, apparently."

He let the doors shut on Jenkins' stunned face, not in the mood to be polite.

Sickbay felt fairly crowded when Tom and Harry stepped inside. Laura sat on a biobed, allowing the Doctor to treat her broken arm. Annika stood nearby, apparently already healed. _Of course, Doc Van Gough would treat the young blonde girl first_, Tom thought, then wondered where that cranky accusation had come from.

A few biobeds down, the Klingon paced irritably, huffing impatiently. Probably locked behind a forece field. Neelix and Gerron stood guard, with phasers drawn. He had some wild hair, even for a Klingon. He had one of those foreheads that looked more like random bumps than defined ridges.

On the other side of the room, B'Elanna lay on a bed, still unconscious, with Chakotay and Linnis standing over her.

Tom stopped involuntarily. The sight of B'Elanna here, in on Voyager again—not in a dream or a fantasy, but the _real_ B'Elanna on the _real_ Voyager—pregnant with his child, and being monitored by his daughter—

Chakotay and Linnis looked up.

"She's stable," Linnis said. "Ad the baby's healthy."

Not since the Year of Hell had Tom ever been so grateful for Kes's natural compassion, that lived on now in Linnis. He doubted anyone else in Linnis's position could have replied with such sincere calm. He remembered, once again, what he'd loved in Kes. Tom half wondered if _she'd_ come waltzing in now. With B'Elanna and Laura here, Kes was the only major flame missing. He looked back at Laura, who seemed determined to avoid looking in that direction of Sickbay. Tom knew Laura wasn't afraid of confrontation; she was averting her eyes for Tom's sake, not her own.

Linnis's tranquility gave Tom the courage to finally walk up to B'Elanna. She definitely looked different than he remembered, and not just because of the pregnant stomach or the maroon pajamas. Her hair was longer, and possibly thicker. Her eyebrows somehow seemed different. Would B'Elanna have come to look this way over the years? Or were these just differences in the universes? His eyes fell to her hands, laying at her sides, and stopped at a gold ring on her finger. His mouth fell open, ready to ask the question (as if anyone would have the answer), then closed it, realizing the answer was obvious.

"You're the father of the _kuvah'magh_."

The Klingon man was speaking to him. Tom had no idea what he'd just said, but it sounded like an insult.

"What did you call…her baby?" Tom asked with an edge in his voice.

"I called her the _kuvah'magh_. The Savior of my people. In my universe, and hers," he nodded to B'Elanna, "you are the _kuvah'magh's_ father."

Tom looked at Chakotay, to see if he had any idea what the Klingon was talking about. Chakotay looked back at the Klingon, with an expression that said he'd heard these ramblings, but had no idea what the hell they were supposed to mean.

Chakotay finally demanded, "Why did you bring her here?"

"I brought the _kuvah'magh_ to your universe, because your universe _has_ no _kuvah'magh_. In your universe, B'Elanna Torres died, before she could conceive the savior."

"So what," Tom asked irritably. "You just dragged her here, so her _unborn baby_ could turn water into wine for a bunch of Klingons? In the Delta Quadrant?"

This guy was nuts. It was the only explanation. An insane Klingon in another universe had kidnapped poor B'Elanna and dragged her here, out of some crazed delusion. Yet, the Klingon sounded eerily…sane.

"I realize this is difficult to understand, especially for a non-Klingon. But you must believe the importance of my mission. The ship I must save is traveling farther and farther out of my reach. Before long I may have missed my chance to help them. I don't have time to explain."

"Well you're gonna have to." Chakotay barked. "I'm not handing a pregnant woman, much less an old friend, back to you unless I have a damn good reason."

Across the room, Laura was watching the Klingon with a furrowed brow. Tom knew Laura had a friend from Unimatrix Zero who was a Klingon. She was probably familiar with how temperamental they could be.

Annika suddenly spoke up. "If you don't have time to explain, surely you could at least find time to _summarize_." She eyed the Klingon a sort of sarcastic hopefulness.

The Klingon clenched his pointed teeth, and for a moment everyone thought he would growl some insult at Annika. Instead, he resumed pacing, and spoke with surprising patience.

"My name is Kohlar. I belong to a sect of Klingons that left our home world three generations ago, in search of a savior called the _kuvah'magh_. We wound up on the other side of the galaxy, where we ran into the Federation starship Voyager. When I met Lt. Torres, and saw she was with child," the Klingon paused his pacing. "I am not a fool, Captain. I do not take the religious texts of my people at face value. I didn't expect Torres's child to speak to me from her mother's womb—"

"That would be creepy." Laura muttered.

"—but I saw an opportunity to end our journey. With Torres' help, we convinced my people to see her child as their savior. She led us to a new home, on a Class-M planet. The improvement was," the Klingon looked like he knew no word to describe it. "_immense_."

Tom folded his arms. "So how'd you find out that our universe is missing it's, what did you call it, ku-va-mag?"

The Klingon seemed to be sighing inwardly. "The story is long, best saved for a celebration or a campfire. But to _summarize_, we have been expanding on our territory."

Tom glanced at Chakotay. "Great. You helped them start a new empire."

"No," the Klingon corrected him. "_Captain Janeway_ helped us. I assume she is dead in your universe. One of the species we conquered was the Valori. What they lack in strength, they compensate for in ingenuity. They've invented a technology that can travel between universes."

Tom added, "Which I'm sure they gave to you willingly, after you asked very politely."

Laura smiled weakly. "Well it _is_ tradition to bring presents to your new neighbors."

Chakotay gave them both a warning glance.

"It was a peace offering," Kohlar said. "after we integrated them into our empire."

Chakotay asked with barely suppressed anger, "And you attempted to expand your empire to other universes."

Kohlar frowned at Chakotay. "What kind of fool do you take me for? Our empire is in its infancy. The _original_ Klingon Empire probably isn't ready to expand into other realms. We simply thought the other universe was worth exploring. My comrades and I traveled there, tracked down our counterparts. But they had no home. They'd never met the _kuvah'magh_. We then tracked down Voyager, where we learned that B'Elanna Torres had never been a part of their crew. In that universe, the Federation never made peace with the Klingon Empire. Apparently this divergence led to the conclusion of B'Elanna Torres never stepping aboard the starship Voyager. I decided, then, that I had to intervene."

Linnis finally spoke up. "So you just went back to your universe, tracked Voyager down again, plucked B'Elanna up and dragged her to every universe that didn't have a B'Elanna in it?"

"We have only been to five universes so far." Kohlar said. "She has agreed to help me, willingly. I've offered her something invaluable in return."

"What?" Tom demanded. "Did you tell her you could bring Voyager home? Or did you just promise her a lifetime supply of banana pancakes?"

The Klingon looked at Tom, but didn't reply.

Annika shook her head. "The multiverse is enormous. The Borg speculate billions of possible universes. It could be _infinite_. You can't possibly—"

"I don't plan to save every one of my crews in the multiverse," Kohlar said. "There is a fixed number of crews I'm destined to save."

"I thought you didn't take your religion at face value," Harry said, from where he stood next to Linnis.

"I still _believe_." Kohlar replied.

"So how many?" Tom rested his hands on the edge of B'Elanna's biobed, and stared at the Klingon. "How many universes are you gonna drag her to?"

Kohlar was silent for a minute. "That information has not yet come to me."

It was impossible to know if he was telling the truth.

"Captain," the Doctor said. "I believe it's safe to wake her, now. Then she can confirm this man's story. Or…add to it."

Chakotay rubbed his temple. "Do it."

Everyone in Sickbay seemed to collectively hold their breath, as the Doctor injected B'Elanna with the hypospray. She blinked awake slowly, and her large brown eyes landed on Tom. Smiling, she said softly, "_Tom_!"

She began pushing herself up, then froze, glancing around the room. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and then closed. "I'm _still_ not in my universe, am I."

"B'Elanna," Chakotay urged quietly. "Do you recognize…any of us?"

"I know you Chakotay." Her eyes moved around the room. "I know Tom. Harry." Her eyes landed on Linnis. "I don't know you." She looked across the room. "I know _him_," she looked at Kohlar wearily, before moving on. "My god, what's on your head Doctor? That looks like a flattened tribble. Please tell me _I_ didn't program that for you." Her eyes left the offended hologram and moved on to Annika. "Seven?"

Annika's eyebrow and implant turned up inquisitively. "_Seven_?"

B'Elanna explained, "We have a former Borg drone on my Voyager, named Seven of Nine. She's saved our _sa'hut_ on more than a few occasions."

Annika looked overwhelmed by this news. "_I_—_my_ counterpart? Saved…?"

B'Elanna stared at her, as if it were obvious. "You were a _Borg drone._ You have knowledge and power none of us could begin to. Your personality took some work though." The insult didn't sound cruel or irritable. It almost sounded affectionate.

B'Elanna's finally reached Laura. "Looks like you guys managed to find more than one severed drone drifting around."

Laura looked away, almost shamefully.

"I'm sorry," B'Elanna shifted on the bed. "I didn't mean—"

"No!" Laura shook her head. "It's not…"

Linnis's eyes suddenly widened, and she shot an involuntary glance at Laura, before catching herself.

Tom's mood was rapidly sinking.

"Guess this is pretty awkward for all of us." B'Elanna muttered. Then, raising her voice slightly, she added, "Especially since I don't have a counterpart in this universe."

Tom looked back at B'Elanna, at a loss for words.

"_Obviously_ there isn't," B'Elanna seemed to be speaking to herself. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here." She sat up, preparing to slide off the bed. "From your reactions, I'm guessing that I—" she stopped, when Tom offered his hand, to help her off the bed.

She took his hand, her eyes locked with Tom's, and finished with a whisper, "that I died."

Tom helped her off the bed. "Three years ago. During the Year of Hell."

B'Elanna's face changed. Her eyes moved back and forth, as she searched her memory. "The Year of Hell…_of course_. Kes told us about…" She turned to look again at Linnis. "Oh."

Linnis searched B'Elanna, clearly confused.

B'Elanna looked at the floor. "This might take a while to explain."

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Linnis said, when B'Elanna was finished.

Linnis's voice had lost its usual softness. She was speaking in a straight, cold voice, that terrified Tom, Harry, Chakotay, and the Doctor. Not even on that Borg cube had Linnis broken from her tranquil tone.

Linnis took a deep breath. "The reason that…_Kes_, began moving backwards through time," she glanced at the Doctor. "was because Dr. Van Gough put her into that experimental chamber?"

"Well that wasn't the _only_ reason," B'Elanna began. "It was a combination of factors—"

"But if he _hadn't_ put her in that chamber, it wouldn't' have happened. If she'd been allowed to die that day..." Linnis's face began to fall, as she stared at B'Elanna.

B'Elanna finished coolly, "I'd be dead and Miral would never have existed." She put a hand over her belly, then turned away from Linnis. "Kohlar, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can move on."

Linnis didn't seem to be angry with B'Elanna. Instead, her hard eyes were fixed on Dr. Van Gough. The Doctor was staring into space, his eyes bulging in existential horror.

"B'Elanna, wait!" Tom hurried around to face her. "_Please_, don't…don't be too hasty. Put yourself in my place. You can't just drop in, tell me we have a baby, and then take off."

It was really remarkable, how much patience B'Elanna was showing. Would his B'Elanna have become that mature?

B'Elanna searched Tom's face. "I guess it was a pretty nasty shock when you found me."

"Well," Tom admitted, "Fortunately I wasn't there. But I think the Doctor was pretty shocked."

She glanced back at Dr. Van Gough. "_He_ found me?"

"Annika and Laura." Tom eyed the two former drones. "The Doctor came later, and confirmed your identity."

B'Elanna turned in the direction of Laura and Annika, and asked, half-sarcastically. "Were you disappointed?"

A chill shot down Tom's spine. How could she possibly know about him and Laura? Laura looked equally spooked. Annika just seemed confused.

Laura stammered to B'Elanna, "It's only been a few weeks! I'm not that jealous just quite yet! I _promise_ you, the only thing going through my mind was how shocked I was to see you in the waking world, after Chakotay told me you'd been ki—"

B'Elanna shook her head. "_What_? I wasn't talking to you, I was asking _Seven_. We clash horns a bit in my universe."

Laura's mouth snapped shut in embarrassment.

"Wait a second," Tom shot a look at Laura. "What do you mean, _see her in the 'waking' world_?" he looked around the room, before landing on Chakotay, who was wearing a particularly guilty expression. "What, did you introduce her to B'Elanna, on one of your spirit quests?"

Chakotay licked his lips. "That's not too far off."

Briefly, the captain summarized the Unimarix Zero incident, for the benefit of everyone in the room.

Harry looked around Sickbay uncomfortably. "I think we need to talk to each other more. I'm learning all kinds of things about I never knew about people I've lived with for seven—"

"Not now lieutenant." Chakotay snapped.

"_Lieutenant_?" B'Elanna eyed Harry's pips with amusement. "So you did get a promotion, in one universe anyway."

"_One universe_?" Harry repeated.

Tom narrowed his eyes in disbelief at Chakotay. "It didn't seem a little, I don't know, _inappropriate_ to cook up a recreation of your con officer's dead girlfriend for your little magic show?"

"I knew B'Elanna for years!" Chakotay retorted. "She was like a sister to me! You're not the only one she belonged to, Tom."

Laura sighed. "Tonight, the parts of Hamlet and Laertes will be played by Tom Paris and Captain Chakotay. With special guest star B'Elanna Torres as Ophelia."

B'Elanna actually smiled, as if pleasantly surprised. "I _like_ her Tom! You have good taste."

Linnis shot B'Elanna an enraged look.

Sickbay finally collapsed into the inevitable storm of arguments that had been brewing for the last several minutes.

"You had no right!" Tom fired at Chakotay.

"I needed my best fighters! She's one of the best I've ever known!"

Kohlar attempted to speak over them. "We're running out of time! We _must_ find my crew, before they're out of reach!"

Linnis's eyes were locked threateningly on Dr. Van Gough. "That day, I thought I was only fighting for Mother's right to end her life naturally…"

"Linnis," the Doctor pleaded, "Linnis please,"

"…but I was really fighting for my life—my son's life! We were one lost argument away from being _erased from history_!"

"You think I _planned_ for that to happen?" the hologram exclaimed.

"I _told_ you it was dangerous!" Linnis yelled. "You _knew_ the outcome was unpredictable!"

"Oh how stupid of me! Of course I should've known that my life-extending chamber could send your mother spiraling backwards through space-time!" the Doctor stormed away from her, throwing his hands in the air. "How could I overlook such an _obvious_ risk!"

"It's _ghastly_ Chakotay! Do you do that on your vision quests? Talk to imaginary dead people?"

"Lieutenant you're out of line!"

"I think my pinky is still broken," Laura said off-handedly.

"Hey," Annika suddenly said. "Where are you going?"

B'Elanna was headed towards the exit. Everyone put their arguments on hold, to hear her explanation.

Taking in the stares, B'Elanna answered, "To see if your Neelix knows how to make banana pancakes. If you'll all forgive me, I've had enough headaches for a while."

She strode out of Sickbay, letting the doors hiss shut behind her.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter will hopefully be up soon. I'm really into this story again. **

**And yes, I am totally planning a spin-off fan-fic, about B'Elanna and Kohlar visiting all the different B'Elanna-less universes. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I forgot about the Borg "failsafe" device, which should have caused some problems for Tom and Laura. I'll try to address it in some future chapter. Since Picard, Janeway, Tuvok and Torres weren't affected by such a device after their breif assimilation, it's possible that it's only instilled in certain drones. (Maybe ones assimilated at a much younger age.) **

**I don't own "Voyager."**

* * *

Annika Hanson watched the drama unfold in Sickbay with a strange detachment. Captain Chakotay was speaking to Kohlar, about his "mission" with B'Elanna. Tom and Harry stood some feet away, trying to console Linnis. Laura, Dr. Van Gough, and Annika were by the doctor's office, with little to do. Laura was doing a remarkable job not letting herself be bothered by a visit from Tom's dead lover and discussions about his late wife.

"_Linnis_," Tom came up behind his daughter, putting his hands on her shoulders. "_Nothing_ B'Elanna said, none of it's real! It's a whole other universe! Those people aren't us. You probably wouldn't even recognize—"

"Like you didn't recognize B'Elanna?" Linnis snapped quietly. "Like she didn't recognize you? Our Voyager was identical to hers. Before…" her hazel eyes flicked to the Doctor. "…before the fourth year."

Even at the peak of her rage, Linnis Paris came across as remarkably calm. Annika doubted she herself would ever have such self-control, if she were in Linnis's place. It was a strain for Annika to bottle all of her traumas enough to get through an average work day on Voyager. Behind the closed doors of the Cargo Bay, she'd broken down to Laura and Xin over things that seemed downright petty now.

"There must be _billions_ of realities," Harry urged, coming around to face Linnis. "There's probably a universe where _I _was never born. And you're married to Dr. Van Gough."

The Doctor looked over sharply, clearly as disconcerted by the idea as everyone else.

Linnis cocked her head at her husband, unimpressed.

Tom mumbled, "Not helping, Harry."

Linnis swallowed, and shook her head. "I'm gone over there. Andrew's gone. And neither of you notice. The captain doesn't notice, Dr. Van Gough doesn't notice..."

Dr. Van Gough muttered, "Technically there _is_ no Dr. Van Gough on that Voyager. I'm just 'the Doctor.' The _bald_ Doctor."

Next to him, Laura sighed deeply. "I wonder where I am."

Annika took a seat on a nearby biobed. By all accounts, she had suffered the least in the last hour. She was the only one in the room with no direct connection to this B'Elanna person. Annika wasn't receiving any visits from a dead loved one; nor having a relationship interrupted by such a visit; or learning that she'd come close to being erased from existence. With what Linnis, Tom, and everyone else were going through, Annika had no business feeling…_anything_. But in her own little bubble, she was having her own existential crisis.

She kept replaying B'Elanna's story in her mind. What the half-Klingon woman had told her about her counterpart, in the other universe. _No Unimatrix Zero. _Well, there _had _been a Unimatrix Zero, over there; but Annika didn't remember it in that universe, not until just recently. Her counterpart had come out of the Collective with her last human memories being her assimilation. Had spent almost four years on Voyager, with nothing but a Borg drone and a traumatized six-year-old to form her adult personality. And she'd come _alone_. No Laura. No Xin. No _name_. They called her "Seven of Nine" in that universe, or "Seven." Admittedly, the name could sound rather intriguing, if it didn't have such sickening memories attached to it.

How lonely was her counterpart? Annika thought she was lonely enough here, with no family. Without Axum. And most of her closet friends from Unimatrix Zero now out of reach (except when she chose to reenter that realm while regenerating). Annika had been doing her best to act professional on Voyager, but it was clear that she was the "baby" of the three former drones. She clung to Laura and Xin for companionship like a scared child at a new school following around the two kids she knew from the neighborhood. She _was_ getting along well with Dr. Van Gough, due to their similar tastes; but she thought of him so much like a teacher, that friendship almost hadn't occurred to her. Icheb and Mezoti were kids; she couldn't show weak eyes to them.

But then, at the same time, B'Elanna had said that "Seven of Nine" was one of Voyager's strongest assets. She'd single-handedly saved the ship on multiple occasions, and acted as an invaluable advisor, with her bank of Borg knowledge. Annika could see how she fulfilled those roles here, too; but she did it as one of three such assets, and the weakest thereof. Laura had the same Borg abilities as Annika, _plus_ experience in Starfleet (and the real world in general). Xin had the same knowledge from the Collective, _plus_ ten other lifetimes worth of experience. Annika had nothing to offer her Voyager that someone else couldn't do far better.

The Klingon in the room was raising his voice.

"All I ask," Kohlar urged, "Is that you help repair my ship, and allow B'Elanna and me to be on our way."

Captain Chakotay kept his Starfleet composure, but an edge still crept into his voice. "You're asking me to send B'Elanna—a _pregnant_ _woman_—after a ship full of rogue warriors. Surely you can understand my dilemma here?"

Annika noted how he'd said "rogue warriors," instead of simply saying "Klingons," like a lot of other officers probably would have. People were often so careless with words. Chakotay seemed to pick them very carefully. Axum had been the same way.

"Captain," Kohlar insisted, "B'Elanna and I have done this multiple times before, with virtually no trouble—"

"_Virtually_?"

Kohlar huffed. "What do you think they'll do to her? Klingons have codes of honor, especially regarding the lives of children and women."

"In _your_ universe they do. But you have no idea what your counterparts may be like. Surely you've heard of the so-called 'Mirror Universe,' that Captain Kirk discovered…"

The famed "Mirror Universe." The Borg were aware of it. They'd assimilated plenty of individuals who'd heard the famous story. Odd, Annika thought, that no one had brought that universe up yet, in all these conversations. The Annika Hanson who'd gone out exploring with her parents would have been fascinated by all this talk of parallel realities. But the one sitting in Sickbay could hardly make herself care.

Watching the captain "negotiate" with Kohlar, Annika was reminded of how dead she was inside. Years ago, she'd probably have found him ragingly attractive. She _wished_ she could be attracted to him. She wished she could get that rush of fear and excitement, like she had for her crushes growing up in Unimatrix Zero. Seeing Chakotay fight the Borg in Unimatrix Zero _should have_ sent thrills through her. Seeing him take charge in front of this Klingon should excite her. Instead, all she saw was a pale imitation of the brave, soft-spoken man she'd loved in Unimatrix Zero. She was honestly sick of grieving for Axum, and wanted to just put it behind her. But for reasons she couldn't understand, she just couldn't wake up that part of her emotions again. She wondered if her Borg implants were preventing her emotions from fully "waking up." Or maybe this was some kind of human chemical imbalance, that Dr. Van Gough could treat. Should she ask? No, everyone would probably just accuse her of being a hypochondriac, and tell her she "just needed time."

"Annika?" Laura's voice derailed Annika's train of thought. "You alright?"

Annika emitted a barely audible laugh. "_I_ should be the one asking _you_ that, shouldn't I?"

Laura turned away. "I learned years ago not to waste time on envy."

Annika stared at her old friend. "Laura what are you talking about?"

"Tom just got to re-meet someone who died years ago. Everyone in this room is envious of that."

Of course the older woman was right. Beneath all the confusion and depression, Annika was seething with fury at the fact that the universe had chosen to dump B'Elanna here for Tom, and not Axum for her. It wasn't fair. And the worst of it was that her counterpart was separated from Axum too. She'd asked B'Elanna—casually of course—about the drones in Unimatrix Zero. B'Elanna knew that "Seven of Nine" had a "friend" named Axum, in Unimatrix Zero. B'Elanna had also known about Korak, and "a woman who'd been assimilated at Wolf 359." No word on how any of them were doing now, because in that universe, Unimatrix Zero had been destroyed, it's former inhabitants scattered across the galaxy with no way of contacting each other.

"I can't be with him, even over there. In that reality." Annika said quietly.

She knew Laura was too kind to say, "Then maybe it just wasn't meant to be," and too pragmatic to say, "love will always find a way." So instead the older woman just took Annika's hand and squeezed it.

It was good to know she had friends, at least in one universe.

"Where are you going?" Tom suddenly asked.

Laura and Annika glanced up, and saw Linnis headed for the door.

"Home," the half-Ocampan said, without looking back. She added bitterly, "I wanna make sure Andrew hasn't disappeared."

Annika watched the doors hiss shut behind Linnis, still lost in her own thoughts.

_Seven of Nine_. Saved Voyager from deadly space anomalies, starship-eating aliens, the Borg, and more…This was the same person as Annika?

* * *

After Linnis stormed out, everyone else in Sickbay began to slowly disperse. The captain stayed to continue speaking to Kohlar, and the Doctor remained in case he was needed. Harry went after Linnis, no doubt because he, too, secretly wanted some reassurance that his son still existed. Laura and Annika returned to the Cargo Bay.

Tom felt like he was being stretched in three different directions. He wanted to follow his daughter, and continue to comfort her, lest she think he cared more about his dead girlfriend than her. He wanted to follow Laura, and reassure her he still wanted her, fearful she'd conclude that B'Elanna was his real "true love" and that she herself was just a cheap substitute, and try to take the high ground by "admitting" that she and Tom "weren't' meant to be." And he wanted to go after B'Elanna, and find out as much as he could about her, before she left him again.

He wound up headed for Harry and Linnis's quarters, not quite sure what he'd do when he got there. Harry answered the door, and timidly told Tom that Linnis wasn't really in the mood to talk. Shamefully, Tom was relieved, since this narrowed his options, and he headed for the Cargo Bay.

Laura and Annika were preparing for "bed" (regeneration). Annika's green uniform jacket was hanging opened when she answered the door; apparently she'd been in the middle of stripping to her silver biosuit for the night. Behind her, Icheb and Mezoti were already "asleep" in their regeneration alcoves.

"Sorry," Tom stammered. "I just uh, wondered if Laura had a minute."

"Tom?" Laura's voice echoed from the decontamination chamber (which the former drones used as a washroom). "Hang on, I'll be right out."

Tom and Annika waited awkwardly in the doorway. Annika offered to let Tom come inside, but he declined, saying he was going to bed soon, and just wanted a quick word with Laura.

"So," Tom searched for something to say to Laura's roommate while they waited. "You going to Unimatrix Zero tonight?"

"No," Annika said. "I've only been there a few times since being freed, mostly to chaperone Icheb and Mezoti. I don't want to go back any time soon." After an awkward silence, she added, "Laura's gone a few times."

"So how does it work," Tom asked. "Do you have to pre-program the alcove to send you to Unamatrix Zero? Or do you just think really hard about it before going to—"

Laura finally emerged from the decontamination chamber. It was the first time Tom had seen Laura wearing only her biosuit, and she looked fantastic in it. He began wondering what B'Elanna would look like in the silver suit, then shoved the image from his mind. Annika left to take her turn in the washroom.

As she crossed the room to meet Tom in the doorway, Laura answered his question: "Dr. Van Gough figured out a way for us to adjust our cerebral implants to capture the Unimatrix Zero frequency, if we want to reenter. But we have to check up with him first before we do, since there are risks. You don't want to do it every night anyway; you wake up exhausted. No one should be quite _that_ conscious when they're dreaming." She shrugged. "As drones, I guess we were 'asleep' when we were awake."

"Laura," Tom gapped. "Listen. With B'Elanna here, I don't want you to think—"

"Tom," Laura assured him. "We're grownups. We've both had," she hesitated, "previous relationships." She swung her arms. "It's not every day you get to say hello again, to someone you've lost."

It suddenly occurred to Tom that _B'Elanna_ might not be the one who Laura was envying.

_Of course. _Laura rarely talked about her assimilation, or her adult life before it. She loved chatting nonstop about her childhood, her Academy days, and Unimatrix Zero. But the starship she'd served on, that she'd said virtually nothing about.

"I mean it Tom," Laura insisted. "Talk to B'Elanna, while you still can. If you don't I'm positive you'll regret it."

Probably far too casually, Tom said, "You lost someone too, didn't you. Aboard the Firebrand."

Laura responded with a weak laugh. "Goodnight Tom."

The Cargo Bay door shut in his face.

* * *

Tom stepped into the mess hall to find B'Elanna sitting near the galley, finishing a plate of banana pancakes. She was talking to Chell, who was running a sonic fan over the counter (vaporizing crumbs and spills). Tom wondered what Chell was doing in the mess hall at this time of night. Then he recalled how much time had passed since that distress call, and realized it might be morning already. Indeed, the Mess Hall lights were on, and the place had the sparse patrons it normally did at 0500 hours. Amelia Jenkins was at a table with Lt. Ashmore—one of the nightshift engineers—probably having supper. Tal Celes and Billy Telfer were on a couch in the back, having breakfast and coffee. Everyone was clearly watching B'Elanna and trying to catch her every word, without looking like they were staring.

"_Just_ when I thought I was getting used to it," B'Elanna said to Chell, "I walk onto the bridge, and _Daniel Byrd_ is at Ops! If I'd been holding something breakable it would've shattered."

"Shattered because of you dropping it," Chell asked, "or throwing it?"

"Both!"

Seeing B'Elanna not only alive, but laughing, and pregnant, it was painfully surreal. Still, Tom headed for her table, ignoring the stares from around the mess hall. B'Elanna began to say something else to Chell, but stopped when Tom came in front of her.

Casually, Tom asked, "You ran into Daniel Byrd on one of the other Voyagers?"

"That's right." B'Elanna said. "I guess Harry and I told you about Daniel Byrd?"

Tom pulled out a chair for himself, taking a seat across from her. "He was Harry's best friend at the Academy. And then, it turned out that _you_ went to _grade school_ with Byrd, twenty years earlier! You hacked the gyro-swing on the playground so he started spinning so fast he almost suffered permanent brain damage!"

"You failed to mention that!" Chell called from the galley.

"Must've slipped my mind," B'Elanna said. "Believe me, the _p'tach_ had it coming." She had a gulp of orange juice before continuing. "Anyway, if you thought Harry and me both knowing Byrd was a crazy coincidence, _apparently_ in one of those universes out there, Daniel Byrd got Harry's position on Voyager! Harry's back home on Earth, married to his old girlfriend Libby. And Daniel's Voyager's communications officer."

Tom's eyes widened. "I wonder what _that_ reunion was like! A half-Klingon Maquis climbs aboard a Federation ship, and sees the guy who bullied her all through in grade school"

B'Elanna shook her head with an ironic laugh. "Well _apparently_ my counterpart wound up developing quite a history with him. "

"I guess he'd changed a lot since elementary school."

B'Elanna gave it some thought, then shook her head. "No, not from what I saw." Poking at the ruminants of her pancakes, she added, "I think you two would've gotten along."

"_Would_ have? You mean I wasn't on this Voyager either?"

"No. For some reason, you and Harry both got left behind on Earth. Amelia Jenkins is the conn officer over there, and Jor's the nightshift pilot."

Tom blinked, taking in the information. "Any idea _why_ we got left behind?"

She shrugged. "Daniel got picked for the position, Harry didn't. Their Captain Janeway mentioned you almost coming aboard Voyager to help catch the Maquis, but you got into a brawl on Deep Space Nine and were held back from the mission."

Tom's jaw slowly dropped. "Hey! Harry said something about that once. Some kind of alternate reality he got stuck in."

"He told me that once, too," B'Elanna said. "Just like Kes told us about this…timeline. I guess somewhere, all of those realities came true."

Boy, was _that_ a loaded thought.

"So what kind of 'history' did you and Daniel Byrd have, in that universe?"

"From what they told me over there, it was a lot like you and me." B'Elanna was talking about these realities with surprising calm, but was clearly still recovering from the shock factor. "Byrd and Torres butted horns, before eventually getting married. Byrd's the father, of my _twins_ in that universe."

"_Twins_?"

"A boy and a girl. Miral and Tristan, after my mother and Byrd's father."

Tom blew through is lips. "Wow. Wait a minute, I thought you were only going to universes without a 'kuvah'magh'?"

"That, and universes where the kuvah'magh didn't accomplish her mission. In that universe, Voyager was just coming up on that Klingon crew. The timelines don't all line up perfectly, I guess. So Kohlar and I sort of helped her and Byrd from behind the scenes."

"_That_ must've been awkward." Tom said.

B'Elanna agreed. "Especially since the twins were _already born_. With me, I was pregnant, so the ambiguity helped a lot with the mystique. Convincing a ship of Klingons that their saviors are two toddlers takes a lot more creativity."

Tom blinked widely. "I'll bet."

B'Elanna continued munching her pancakes and drinking her orange juice. Tom felt left out with nothing to eat or drink, so he ordered some coffee from Chell. While the Bolian went to fetch it, Tom asked B'Elanna, "So how many universes have you been to? Five, Kohlar said?"

"I think it was a bit more than that." B'Elanna set down her fork. "Let me think. There's the one with Daniel Byrd; one where the Federation never made peace with the Klingons; one where the Alpha Quadrant's the same, but Voyager never got lost; one where," she hesitated, "we tried using the slipstream drive to get home, but only Harry and Chakotay made it back. Another one where I was killed by Kes, right before she tried to unravel history," B'Elanna momentarily ignored the shock on Tom's face. "One where the Year of Hell happened, but not the one your crew experienced; a different one." She breathed deeply, and finished, "And one that's almost exactly like mine, but where I…had my baby genetically altered, to become a human."

"Hang on," Tom's hands rose just an inch or so from the table. "Back up. Did you say that _Kes_ killed you in one of those timelines?"

"Yes. It was when she returned to Voy—" she stopped, and muttered, "I keep forgetting how different this ship is."

Chell arrived with Tom's coffee, and decided to jump back into the conversation. "How did Kohler rope you into this in the first place?"

"Well," B'Elanna leaned back in her chair. "It was pretty sudden. I was asleep, with Tom." Her eyes flicked to the Tom in front of her, but she continued, knowing she didn't need to specify _which_ Tom. "We'd just lost Carrey the previous day. Tom and I, we both needed…we'd both been bothered by that."

"You're talking about Joe Carrey?" Tom asked, taking his coffee from Chell.

She nodded. "I worked with him in Engineering, and y—Tom, was with him when he was killed. I don't suppose Carrey's alive here?"

"We lost him in the Year of Hell," Tom replied, his eyes locked on B'Elanna.

She decided to hurry her story along. "Well we stayed up playing chess to distract ourselves, and then went to bed. The next thing I knew I was waking up aboard an alien ship, and there was Kohlar. He told me how his little empire had been doing, thanks to the kuvah'magh," she touched her stomach. "and he explained to me how other universes seemed to be missing their savior."

Chell seemed baffled. "And you just agreed to help him?"

"Not at first," B'Elanna defended. "I thought he was crazy. I still think he is."

Tom asked, "What did he promise you?"

She unconsciously looked down at her unborn child. "Honor. Honor for my baby. And for me."

Tom stared in disbelief. "You never cared about honor. Not until…"

"We were floating in space." B'Elanna finished.

Chell cleared his throat. "I've got other tables to get to."

The Bolian left them alone, and went straight to Jenkins and Ashmore, who'd been staring at Tom and B'Elanna. He asked if he could get them anything, clearly trying to send them a hint that they should stop eavesdropping on Tom and B'Elanna.

Tom made to take a sip of his coffee, then set the cup back down. "So let me go over this one more time," he said to B'Elanna. "Just to make sure I've got it. Our timelines diverged when Voyager was coming up on _Borg_ space. When we were going to use that wormhole to try skipping it. But in your universe, Kes warned you about the Krenim on the other side, because she'd already seen the future."

"That's right." Staring into space, B'Elanna said quietly, "I never realized just how much I owed her for that."

"She sacrificed her family," Tom said, equally dazed. "Her daughter, her grandson…"

B'Elanna blinked out of her trance, and seemed to flounder for something appropriate to say. "Her memory of those events wasn't complete," she finally defended. "She only 'knew' bits and pieces of them, at least by the time she got back to us. To her it must've seemed like a strange dream."

"But you and the captain were real to her." Tom finished. "So she had to think of you two."

It was a sickening choice that was driving Tom mad. The thought of Linnis and Andrew never being born chilled him. But looking at B'Elanna's pregnant stomach, and knowing there was a child brewing between him and B'Elanna—the woman he'd loved more than anyone else—the thought that he'd missed that was also torturing him.

He finally decided to go for his coffee, before it got cold. "So that's why you did it?" Tom tried not to sound too harsh, but didn't hide how absurd he found it all. "You let Kohlar drag you through the multiverse, because he promised you _honor_? What if it has some effects on the baby? And besides, won't your Tom notice you're missing?"

"It won't. And _he_ won't. No one will know I've been gone. When we get back to my Voyager, only a few hours will have passed. The different universes aren't perfectly in sync. Time runs at different speeds in each one. Kohlar proved it to me, after our trip to the first universe. We'd been there for two days. But when we returned to Voyag—my Voyager, less than five minutes had passed."

The coffee didn't taste quite right. Chell had used the fat-free creamer, when Tom had specifically asked for regular. He'd probably been distracted listening to B'Elanna.

Casually, Tom asked, "So I just slept through you and a Klingon talking about the timeline in our quarters?"

"We moved our conversation to the washroom to avoid waking you."

"How thoughtful."

Hesitantly, B'Elanna said, "I'm not just doing this because Kohlar promised me honor. I want to feel like I've done something…_right_. For the Klingon Empire. And I want my baby to grow up knowing she did something right, right from the start. So no matter what happens later on…Besides, how many people get to say they've been a parallel universe?"

"I have to admit," Tom said, "my curiosity would probably get the better of me. Why didn't you invite Tom to come along?"

"I don't know," she honestly seemed to be wondering the same thing herself. "It was happening so fast, I guess I just didn't want to wake you. And I think I was worried about you. The baby won't be doing anything reckless, I know that. But husbands are another story."

More people were arriving for breakfast, lining up at the galley. Tom was starting to get self-conscious about this conversation. He decided to lighten the mood.

"So, wanna tell me about some of the other Voyagers you saw? Or is there a prime directive about parallel universes?"

A few people in the breakfast line looked over. Some caught themselves, but others were openly listening, as if the conversation were a public lecture.

B'Elanna ignored them. "If there is I've never heard of it. Let's see," her eyes moved thoughtfully. "The _first_ universe we visited was the one where the Federation was still at war with the Klingons. In that one, I'm alive, but I'm in the Alpha Quadrant. Captain Janeway was kind enough to look my counterpart up for me in her database. I'm serving aboard a Klingon vessel, with _Colonel_ Worf, and _Commander_ K'Ehleyr. Don't ask how Starfleet got _that_ information."

Tom had heard of Ambassador K'Ehleyr, from _his_ B'Elanna. Ambassador K'Ehleyr had been the most famous Klingon/human hybrid in the quadrant. She'd been about a decade older than B'Elanna, and the two had been long-distance friends, until K'Ehleyr's murder. But apparently in the universe B'Elanna was describing now, K'Ehleyr was still alive.

"So what was Voyager like?" Tom asked. "What was Captain Janeway like? What was I like?"

"Their Captain Janeway's pretty similar to ours. But she had a rougher edge. She was a lot more stern. And she's still got the bun." She drummed her fingers on the table, trying to think of more details. "She's _married_ to Chakotay. Chakotay," B'Elanna's eyebrows rose. "is an _atheist_, with no tattoo, and his father is alive. They don't get along. And their Doctor's a little more Gothic in his literary tastes; he's picked the name Dr. Seward."

Tom squinted. "Dr. Seward…like from 'Dracula?'"

She nodded. "I'm not there of course. Carrey's alive, he's their chief engineer. Kes is onboard, and she's married to Harry."

Tom almost choked on his coffee. _Kes? Harry?_ Admittedly, there _had_ once been a time when Kes and Harry were both just two shipmates, around the sage "age," with similar personalities. Maybe it wouldn't seem so weird if _his_ Harry wasn't married to his Kes's _daughter_.

"I'm afraid to ask who _I'm_ married to," Tom finally said.

"You're married to a Betazoid woman, named Stadi."

"Stadi! She was—"

"Voyager's original conn officer." B'Elanna said flatly. "Who you tried flirting with. You've told me. Well, actually Harry told me, but you admitted to it."

Someone from the breakfast line—Mariah Henley—said, "So I take it there was no Maquis movement in that universe."

B'Elanna glanced up at her old Maquis comrade. "No, Mariah. In that universe, Voyager wound up in the Badlands when it was chasing a Klingon probe. I don't remember if you were onboard or not."

Mariah shook her head, like it didn't matter. "Wherever I was, I'm sure I was shooting at something or blowing something up."

B'Elanna shared a laugh with her old shipmates. Tom had to admire how well everyone in the Mess Hall was taking B'Elanna's visit. Granted, it wasn't like strange things didn't happen all the time on Voyager. Maybe everyone was being nostalgic, not just for the days when their old chief engineer was alive, but for when Voyager was constantly encountering bizarre anomalies like this on a weekly basis.

B'Elanna turned back to Tom. "Once they got to the Delta Quadrant, things seemed to play out pretty much the same. Compared to my timeline I mean. They got Seven of Nine, Naomi was born…"

"It can't've been the same without you." Tom said.

She smiled, somewhat uncomfortably. Of course she was feeling uncomfortable. Who wouldn't be a bit bothered, visiting universe after universe where they were dead or absent, and their husband was married to someone else?

"So tell me about some of the other universes." Tom urged.

"Alright." B'Elanna pushed away her empty plate. "The next one we went to, _that_ was the one with Daniel Byrd. That one's almost identical to ours. I mean to mine." She sighed. "The next one was where Voyager never got lost. Kohlar and I got to that universe, and there was just no Voyager. For all we could tell, the ship might've been destroyed, any one of those times we were all almost killed."

Tom did his best not to dwell on that thought.

"Then," B'Elanna's voice took an edge again. "Kes showed up. But she wasn't like the we ever knew. She was somehow…_evolved_. She'd somehow sensed Kohlar's and my arrival to her universe, and tracked us down. She told us what Voyager had done. In her universe, Janeway used the Array to get Voyager home."

B'Elanna stopped awkwardly. She clearly didn't want to tell Tom anything about his late wife that might upset him.

"That doomed the Ocampa," Tom said, "didn't it."

B'Elanna nodded. "She had some pretty mixed feelings about that."

"I'll bet." Tom tried not to think about his beloved wife as an embittered, sub-humanoid entity. Then, another awful thought struck him."But if Voyager never got lost, then you and Chakotay—"

"Are probably dead." B'Elanna said quietly. "But who knows, Tom. We survived the Delta Quadrant, who says we didn't survive the Dominion."

_But you _didn't_ survive the Delta Quadrant, _Tom thought sadly.

B'Elanna seemed to sense the irony of what she'd just said. She reached for her orange juice.

"Okay." Tom was determined to keep the topic rolling, before his emotions got the better of him. "So how many universes we got so far?" he began ticking them off on his fingers. "The Daniel Byrd universe, the no-Klingon-treaty universe, the Voyager-never-got-lost universe…Where'd you go next?"

B'Elanna swallowed her juice. "The next universe, the exact same thing happened; no Voyager, and we were found by an evolved Kes. But Harry was with her this time. They told us Voyager was in the Beta Quadrant, buried under twenty feet of ice. We'd tried an experimental slipstream drive to get us back to Earth, and it failed. That probably didn't happen in your timeline. But we tried it in mine, and it didn't work. But luckily no one was hurt. In that universe though, Harry and Chakotay made it back to Earth in the Delta Flyer, and everyone else was killed." B'Elanna rubbed the back of her neck. "I can't remember how, or why, but _somehow_ Kes wound up learning that something had gone wrong—this was after she'd left Voyager remember—and _somehow_ she got all the way back to Earth, to Harry and Chakotay. It was awful. Harry blamed himself for the miscalculation that killed the crew. But Kes helped him through it." B'Elanna grimaced. "I'm sorry to freak you out again Tom, but Harry was…_with_ Kes, in this universe. He said if she hadn't found them, he would have probably gone insane."

"Kes can have that effect," Tom said. "She could be there for you when no one else could."

"You must've loved her." B'Elanna's sympathy was surprisingly sincere.

"I did." Tom admitted. "She wasn't the same as you, but I did." He cleared his throat. "So what, are Harry and Chakotay settled on Earth? Or are they running around the galaxy with Kes?"

"Chakotay's on Earth, teaching at the Academy. Kes thinks he's going to get married in his older years; apparently she's achieved precognition in that universe. She and Harry left Earth to explore the universe together. The Doctor's with them too; they salvaged him from Voyager. So, Harry, the Doctor and Kes helped Kohlar and me with our kuvah'magh mission. And then it was Universe…what number am I on?"

Tom quickly counted tem off. "Five?"

"Five. Right. The next one…that was the one where Kes returned to Voyager, after leaving to explore her powers for a few years."

Tom shifted uncomfortably. "You told us in Sickbay, something went wrong for her out there, and she blamed Voyager. Why? What happened to her?"

"We never found out," B'Elanna said regretfully. "But the Doctor thinks it has to do with her not being able to adjust to all of her new powers as fast as she was developing, because of that Ocampan lifespan." B'Elanna quickly assured Tom, "She was okay, in the end. She went home to Ocampa."

"But in one of those alternate timelines she created, she killed you."

B'Elanna looked back down, and nodded. "When she returned to Voyager, she tore the ship apart with her mind. She tried to do something with the warp core, and I wound up getting in the way. The Doctor couldn't revive me. Whatever Kes wanted to do with the warp core, it didn't work. She killed a few more people out of rage—including Sam Wildman. Seven was the only one who could get close to her, her Borg physiology was the only thing that could withstand Kes's powers. She managed to hold Kes off long enough for you to—" B'Elanna stopped.

Tom finished, "I killed her."

B'Elanna swallowed and nodded.

"How?" Tom asked flatly.

"Seven said you vaporized her with your phaser, set to the highest setting. After that you blamed yourself, for some reason. But you recovered. You're engaged to Megan Delaney now." Her tone shifted, back-to-business like. "_But_, no kuvah'magh. So naturally, Kohlar and I had to step in."

"Was that the last one?" Tom said. "The last universe I mean?"

"No. Before this one, there were two more. We visited one where Voyager had spent a year in Krenim Space, the 'Year of Hell' as you call it. But the captain and I survived that one. And Kes wasn't with us, Seven was. We lost Voyager, and a lot of the crew. Tuvok was blind for a while. So the main difference between that universe and mine was that they were a year behind in their journey, and had a new ship."

"If they were a year behind, how did you contact them to learn all this?" Tom asked. "You and Kohlar just appear in the same general area of each universe, right?"

"Right. We found out because a nearby alien race had technology for communicating across vast distances. I talked to my counterpart, gave her a heads up on what we were doing. Tried to help her be prepared, for when Voyager does go past those Klingons, in about a year."

"She didn't have a problem with you basically impersonating her, to these guys?"

"It's me Tom, of _course_ there were problems. But we worked them out. I mean, I worked them out. With myself." She rubbed her forehead, then signed once more. "I like to think she's looking forward to meeting them."

"But she _is_ pregnant?" Tom pressed.

"Yes. She's pregnant. And married to Tom Paris."

That news warmed him. Which was more than could be said for the coffee; it was lukewarm now.

"What's their new ship like?"

"It's an alien vessel, I don't remember the species. My counterpart said that an alien deliberately constructed it to resemble Federation ships, part of some ploy to lure them all to their deaths. That happened in my universe too."

Tom shook his head. "Never happened here. And if it had, Kes would've sensed the trap before anyone set foot on that ship."

"Too bad we didn't have Kes to warn us," B'Elanna said wearily. "It was a whole fiasco with us. And _that_ Voyager too, from the sound of it. They were even _more_ susceptible to his plan, because they didn't have Voyager anymore. They were traveling in shuttles and escape pods. But they outsmarted the alien, and reprogrammed the ship to make it usable. They named it the Odysseus."

Tom had to laugh. "Was that my idea?"

"Yours and Chakotay's, they said. You both were always big into mythology."

"I'll bet it was fun, figuring out how to fly that thing." Tom finished off his coffee.

"And how to run it," B'Elanna added.

Once again, Tom was painfully reminded that he and B'Elanna were together in another reality.

"Anything else different in that universe?" Tom asked.

B'Elanna thought it over. "Seven and Chakotay are together."

"Seven meaning Annika?"

"Annika, right." B'Elanna seemed to find it jarring, to refer to "Seven" by her real name. "A lot more people have families, it seems. Jenkins and Ayala are married, with a baby boy. Jor and Tabor are on their second child. Tal and Billy are engaged….I guess the Year of Hell had a pretty big effect on them."

The Year of Hell had certainly affected everyone in _this_ universe, Tom thought.

"So that leaves one more Voyager, right?"

"Yep. One more." B'Elanna seemed to think this one was the most difficult. "It was identical to mine, but I'd…I'd changed my daughter's genetics. Made her human. So she couldn't _be_ a kuvah'magh. I urged my counterpart to tell the Doctor the truth, and have him revert what he'd done. But she was convinced this was the only way to…to give her daughter a good life. I wound up doing the kuvah'magh thing without her. But I told her," B'Elanna's voice and face became more somber than Tom had seen all night, "that _someday_, her daughter's going to wonder what's missing from her soul, and she'll have some explaining to do."

Tom stared at the woman across the table from him. B'Elanna had changed drastically since the Year of Hell. She'd grown up, essentially. The B'Elanna he'd been mourning for three years was a spunky, young woman with short hair, conflicted and self-loathing. The one in front of him was…for lack of a better word, a _mom_. Oddly, she almost reminded him of Captain Janeway, in that regard. Well, of course she did; what other (female) role model would B'Elanna have had for the last seven years?

It made Tom happy—_relieved_—that B'Elanna was alive in so many realities. Alive and with him, and pregnant with his child. But by the same token, something else was bothering him, immensely. He looked over his shoulder, to see how many people were still eavesdropping. Not many, and none openly.

"B'Elanna," Tom lowered his voice, "it seems like in a lot of these universe, we got more time together. I like that. But you have to admit, it's a little weird; even when you're going specifically to the Voyagers without a kuvah'magh, there's still no…."

B'Elanna wasn't following him.

"Linnis and Andrew," he finished.

Her face changed. "I've only been to six universes," she offered. "There could be hundreds of Linnises and Andrews out there."

"But I feel like there's a reason you didn't find any." Tom became grim. "I noticed some patterns in the universes you described. A lot of those events _almost_ came true in all the universes, but didn't because someone changed history."

B'Elanna was silent.

"All of this _did_ happen, in most of those universes, didn't it. It just got undone, when Kes was sent back in time"

"Tom I, I'm sorry. I should never have told you about…that…with Linnis in the room."

Tom shook his head. "It's over. Just, please, B'Elanna, don't tell Linnis about this conversation. I don't think she'd like it. It's hard enough knowing she's missing from _one_ universe…"

"I won't Tom. I promise. She'll never know."

Tom wasn't consoled. "She already suspects that I didn't love her mother as much as it seemed. Having you back, it's just rubbing it in her face. That you were my first choice."

B'Elanna's face melted into a sympathy that surprised Tom. "I know how she feels. That day you find out your parents don't really love each other."

Tom almost wished he _could_ tell Linnis, just so she could see B'Elanna's sympathy. Almost.

* * *

Linnis lay in bed next to Harry, turned away from her husband. Her eyes were shut and her breathing steady, not because she was asleep, but because she was concentrating. She'd never eavesdropped on others thoughts before for more than a few seconds. But it was impossible not to breach that rule of telepathic etiquette tonight. She'd been waiting intently for any news of her son or herself in the other universes, from her father's conversation with B'Elanna on the other side of the ship. Those final words between Dad and the half-Klingon finally drove the point home.

Linnis decided she needed to use the washroom, and left the bed. Harry was still snoring. Instead of going to the washroom, she stopped to check on Andrew. His snoring pattern was almost identical to his father's. She still couldn't believe he was already a teenager. Even before that coma, even being half-Ocampan, it still seemed like Andrew had grown up in the blink of an eye. How many generations of this family had Kes erased, when she'd changed the timeline in that other universe?

And the sympathy B'Elanna had expressed for Linnis…normally Linnis would be impressed by that. Objectively she was. But emotionally it only upset her more. She'd sensed the general emotions along with Tom and B'Elanna's words, and traces of their thoughts; and B'Elanna was viewing Linnis's family like her own, and like dozens of others she'd seen and heard about. Like they were just another average, dysfunctional family. And Linnis refused to believe there was anything "average" about her parents' relationship. Tom and Kes's love had been _perfect_. They'd been the couple everyone else onboard was jealous of, the ones who never fought and never mistreated each other. B'Elanna's casual sympathy was patronizing, insulting.

She left Andrew's room and finally headed for the washroom, deciding that the sooner this B'Elanna Torres was off the ship, the happier she'd be.

* * *

**A/N: This is possibly the longest filler chapter I've ever written for a story. I apologize for 16 pages of literally nothing. The next chapter will continue the plot, I promise. **

**I can't believe that I've gone this long without mentioning JBHart's story "One Possible Future." To my knowledge, it is the only story on the internet besides this one which deals with Tom and B'Elanna learning about the possible future of "Before and After." **

**I also highly recommend "The Folly of the Stewards" by Cojack, which deals with multiple universes for Voyager. **


End file.
